Best Laid Plans
by clicketykeys
Summary: Corso Riggs has some important decisions to make as he travels with the sweet scoundrel Vacy Fiorst to Nar Shaddaa and Tatooine. Chapter 31: An Unexpected Trump Card - Vacy and Bowdaar face down a gang of thieves to try to get back the holocom. Also includes a rather glaring Princess Bride shoutout. As always - if you read, I'd love a review!
1. They Never Learn

**Chapter 1 - They Never Learn**

* * *

In this sort of life, one had to deal with scum of various sorts on a fairly regular basis. As a matter of fact, one often felt that one **was** scum of one sort or another. Captain Vacy Fiorst had long ago learned to mask her disgust – not doing so was bad for business, after all.

Hutts, however, made that particularly difficult. It didn't help that they looked hideous, but what really set Vacy off was how much pleasure they took from the suffering of others. As much as possible, she avoided dealing with them.

Unfortunately, Nar Shaddaa was one place that 'as much as possible' meant 'not at all.' So she was stuck having to play run-and-fetch-it for a Hutt named Drooga, when what she really wanted to do was put her shoulder to his chaise and push it off the barge. She'd mentioned this to Corso repeatedly, but he'd just chuckle and shake his head and remind her that it was only a couple of jobs, and then they'd be done.

Still, every time they jogged back to the barge, she felt her shoulders tensing up and her jaw instinctively clenching. "I'm gonna do it, Riggs," she muttered as Drooga's pompous majordomo dismissed them with an arrogant sneer. "I'm gonna shove him off the side."

"Which one, Captain? The Hutt or the poof?" he returned with a grin.

Vacy tried to maintain her scowl, but she could feel a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

It was then that a heavily-armored man walked up to them. "Hello. I'm Rogun's personal bounty hunter."

That took Vacy a bit by surprise; she wasn't used to bounty hunters being quite that well-mannered. Corso leaned closer and whispered, "That a man or a hover tank?" and a giggle escaped before she could hide it behind a cough. It wasn't like him to be quite so snarky – she was probably a bad influence – and there might've been a touch of jealousy, there, too.

Apparently the hunter's suit included enhanced audiovisual feed, because he picked up on Corso's remark, straightening a bit. "You like my armor?" The speakers on his helmet didn't hide his smug tone. "I polished it for the occasion."

Vacy leaned forward. "It is pretty sparkly at that." She tapped the armor with a flick of her fingers. "Even if you missed a spot under your elbow." She lifted a shoulder oh-so-casually, smirking at the hunter. "Don't worry about it; I understand it can be hard to reach."

"You've got a talent for digging holes with your mouth," the hunter snapped back.

But Vacy just grinned broadly. "I **know**," she said, putting her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing. "You oughta see what else it can do."

From behind her, she heard, "Ewwww," and she laughed.

"Riggs, chill. I'm screwing **with** him, not screwing **him**. One little word can make a big difference," she said, still laughing.

The hunter sounded like he was getting angry. "Rogun says I can bring you back in pieces. Hope you don't mind. I've got some new toys I wanna try out."

Wondering if they could tick him off enough to get him well off his game, Vacy gave him a very-obvious once-over and then shrugged. "Not too fond of the fancy-dancy stuff, myself, but after I pry it off your corpse, I may see if my buddy here wants any of it before I sell it for scrap."

She heard soft footsteps behind them and then heard a throaty rumble. _Leave my friend alone, metal man. _Surprised, she looked over her shoulder, and smiled when she saw Bowdaar.

"Honestly, what IS this?" sneered the hunter. "A girl, a hick, and a half-dead Wookiee? I'm almost insulted that Rogan sent me after you." He leveled his rifle at her. "The money makes me feel quite a bit better, though."

_Enough chitchat; it's not like you can talk your way out of this_, said the survivor-voice. "Girl?" Vacy snapped back, and Flashy was in her hand without a thought. "I am ALL WOMAN, you scum-sucking piece of filth. And I don't actually need a sidekick; I can take you down all by my little sweet self."

With a barely-perceptible nod to Corso, she rolled toward a nearby armchair while he fired a harpoon at the bounty hunter, pulling him further from Vacy. She saw Bowdaar leap in, vibrosword flaring to life, and she grinned. "Then again," she shouted over to the hunter, "Where's the fun in a fair fight?"

"I'll teach you some manners before you die," the hunter snarled back.

Laughing, Vacy ducked back behind the armchair. "Not likely!" she shouted as she felt Flashy warming up in her hands. She popped back up, aimed, and then frowned as she saw her adversary crumple to the floor before she could squeeze the trigger. "Well that was a bit anticlimactic," she grumbled as she walked over. She kicked the body in the shoulder. "You know, I think I'M insulted that Rogun sent you after me. And he didn't even offer ME any money to make me feel better."

Bowdar nodded to Vacy, then turned to Corso. _It is an honor to fight beside you_, the Wookiee said in a series of barks.

Corso got kind of red in the face, grinning a bit. "Yeah, well, y'ain't such a bad fighter yourself. Glad we had you on our side."

They watched the Wookiee head back to his cage, and Vacy saw Corso's shoulders droop. "Don't worry, Riggs," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "We'll figure something out."


	2. Red Herrings

**Chapter 2 – Red Herrings**

* * *

Seeing the pain in Corso's eyes struck Vacy to the core – even though it had absolutely nothing to do with her, for once. Thinking about why she responded that way raised questions she didn't really want to consider. She decided that a distraction was what was needed, and put her hands on her hips and sighed dramatically.

"Somethin' wrong, Captain?" Corso's brows drew together in concern.

Vacy looked at him with a scowl, nodding to one of the twi'lek dancers. "Why are all the companions female?" She arched a brow as another one approached, slipping an arm around Corso's shoulders. "Ain't fair," she muttered.

Corso blinked, offering a rather wobbly smile to the scantily-clad woman. "Ahm. Evenin', miss." He reached up and gently removed her arm. "Maybe some other time?" As the dancer laughed and wandered off, he looked around, frowning thoughtfully. "Huh. I guess you're right," he said to Vacy, nodding.

She watched him study the dancers (as opposed to ogling them) and couldn't hide her grin. "Riggs."

"Hm?" He looked back at her, completely guilt-free.

Vacy just shook her head. "You're adorable." She sighed, then, looking over at the live band and the mostly-open floor in front of them. "It's just – you fellows always have dancing partners about. Us womenfolk are just outta luck." With a shrug, she turned toward the dock. "Where we headed next?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Hold on a bit, there, Captain. We ain't in that much of a rush. Whyn'cha have a seat?" He nodded toward one of the small tables bordering the dance area. "I'll catch up with you in a minute or so."

She eyed him warily for a few moments, but he made a 'shoo!' gesture with his hands, and she wrinkled her nose but headed over toward an empty table. "You know I ain't big on surprises," she called back.

Leaning back in the chair, Vacy gave a grudging sigh of appreciation. Drooga might be an ugly, parasitic tumor sucking the life out of the galaxy, but he was not an ungenerous host. The chairs were comfortable, the musicians were skilled, and the venue was once again in an excellent location – lit up by the many-colored lights of the advertising banners that surrounded them, but well above the noise from the taxi lanes, not to mention the crime and squalor far below. _Yep_, Vacy reflected, _you could be just about perfectly happy here if you're the sort who doesn't care about the suffering of others._ She scowled.

Luckily, that was when she heard Corso behind her. "Glad to see you didn't give up on me altogether," he said, walking up and sitting in the next chair. "Sorry to make you wait."

For some reason Vacy found her mouth was a little dry. "Um. What happened to your armor?" She hadn't thought about it too much before this, but everyone pretty much looked the same when covered up by plasteel. You couldn't really tell what was under there, whether it was pasty flab or broad shoulders… and tight muscles... _Oh dear. _She cleared her throat as quietly as she could manage.

"Can't dance in that stuff," he said with a chuckle. "Well, I mean, maybe in the technical sense. Just not well." He folded his arms. "And I ain't about to get into one of **those** getups, so don't even think about it."

She hadn't, until then, but her eyes widened and she snorted a giggle before she managed to clap her hand over her nose and mouth to stifle it. "Right. Sorry." The image of Corso Riggs in a metal bikini and barely-there skirt, waving his arms and shaking his hips, was entertaining, if more amusing than sexy. _Though there **was** that time you walked by the workstation and he'd had his shirt off…_ Vacy felt her cheeks burning and reached for something else to think about. "I, ah… I didn't know you danced, actually."

He shrugged. "Not much opportunity of late. I ain't one for squeezin' into crowds, but this ain't s'bad." He looked over at her and lifted a shoulder. "So… not that you need a partner, or that you'd have any trouble findin' one if you asked around. But – if you like," he took a shaky breath, "I will."

Vacy did her best to ignore the warmth that seemed to blossom in her chest, and just nudged him with her elbow. "Awh, Riggs! That the proper way to ask a lady to dance?" Teasing was ever so much safer.

The blush that crept over his cheeks was predictable, but still kind of gratifying. He stood immediately, grinning at her. "Guess you're right 'bout that. Ah. Right, then." He dipped his head to her, all polite-like, and she giggled a little. "Captain – ma'am – would you care to dance?"

When he extended his hand to her, she felt that soft flutter again. It was getting distressingly familiar. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her over to the dance floor.


	3. Stay on Target

**Chapter 3 – Stay on Target**

* * *

Vacy laughed as Corso led her in a back-and-forth quickstep, shaking her head. "Riggs, color me impressed. You've got skills!"

He let her twirl out, then pulled her back in, and with his arms wrapped around her, he winked. "Captain, you've got _no idea."_

It took her a moment to catch the beat again. Her brows arched so high she wondered if they'd reached her hairline.

"You all right there?" He was grinning broadly. "Don't worry. I can cover for you if you don't know this one."

"That – it – I was talking about dancing!" she sputtered.

They spun, slid out, pulled back. "So was I. Why, what did you think I meant?"

It was impossible to tell if his grin was because he was enjoying the music and the dancing or because he was enjoying her discomfiture. "Not dancing," she muttered, and maybe he was being sort of a brat, but somehow she couldn't get rid of her own grin either.

Four songs later? five? they ordered drinks from a passing server then headed back to the table they'd been sitting at before. Corso dropped into a chair with a gusty sigh. "We need to do this more often." Another server brought their drinks over, and he chugged back several swallows and sighed again. "Get so caught up in rightin' wrongs and savin' lives… can be awful easy to forget about yer own."

Vacy sipped hers a bit, testing, and smiled kind of sadly. "Maybe. Just seems there's always an emergency of some sort or another. Someone needing our help absolutely right now, no delays, lives on the line, not a moment to spare." She sighed, shoulders raising, then drooping in a weary shrug.

Somehow the carefree mood they'd had moments ago had turned somber. Corso sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You can't carry the weight of the whole galaxy on your shoulders," he said, though he was looking into his mug rather than at her. "It ain't actually possible to save everyone."

_Blast, girl, you've gone and sent him back to Mantell. Absolutely brilliant. _Vacy took a breath, then lifted her glass and drained it before setting it back down. She might regret that in a short while, given that they'd stopped neither for lunch nor dinner, but right now sober wasn't much fun. "You're absolutely right. So. Best enjoy ourselves for now. We'll worry about saving more lives once we've had a full night's sleep, how's that sound?" This time she extended her hand to him.

But before he took it, the beat shifted to a more sultry rhythm, the bass pulsing harder. Corso hesitated, looking over to the dance floor, his brows pulled together in thought.

Frustration surged through Vacy in time with the beat. She could feel her jaw tensing as she looked down at him. "You gonna let me head out there all by my lonesome?"

"Well, Captain that depends." Corso looked at her with a wry smile. "This just a dance, or you lookin' for somethin' more?"

One brow arched, and then she smirked right back at him. "Well, Riggs, that depends," she replied, "on what my partner wants."

He slipped his hand into hers and let her pull him to his feet. "How 'bout right here, then?" He nudged the chairs away with his boot, creating just enough floor space to move around in, though not for anything fancy.

In the small, boxed-in area he'd created, Vacy found herself shifting the pattern of the dance, emphasizing the turns and twists of her upper body to balance the smaller steps she was taking. It was easy to forget how strong he was, but he didn't seem to have the least bit of trouble supporting her, no matter how far she stretched her bends and extensions. And each time she returned to their frame, she found herself holding him a little closer, until her hand was clasped behind his neck rather than resting lightly out at the tip of his shoulder. Of course, by then his arm was locked around her waist, when he'd started out with his hand placed carefully at her hip.

The music had slowed, softened, but neither of them moved from the embrace, hearts pounding together.

Vacy took a shuddery breath, lifting her face to his. "So," she whispered. "This just a dance, or are you lookin' for something more?"

* * *

[ I just kind of made up the dances – something swing-style for the fast ones at the beginning, and then the later one is some crazy cross between a tango for passion and a rhumba for intimacy and longing. More like the "Roxanne" from _Moulin Rouge_ than "Cell Block Tango" from _Chicago_, although that isn't quite it either. Any other suggestions? ]


	4. Forbidden Love

**Chapter 4 – Forbidden Love**

Keeping his arm wrapped around her, Corso reached up with his other hand, and brushed the tips of his fingers along the curve of her jaw. "Nothin's changed for me, Captain," he whispered in reply. "I still want you, now an' always."

Vacy touched the tip of her nose to his. "You ain't like anyone I've ever known before," she murmured. "There's a part of me wants to say _throw everything to blazes, tell him you love him, just go with it_." Her smile was sad. "And if you was anybody else, maybe I would. Because it wouldn't bother me in the least to say _Yanno, I just don't love you anymore _to anybody else." With a soft sigh, she lay her head on his shoulder. "But with you – I don't rightly understand it – I don't ever wanna do that to you."

Corso slipped his other arm around her as well, and closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He let out a contented sigh, holding her close for a few moments before letting go and stepping away. "Let's go ahead an' get back to the ship," he said. "Wouldn't want Risha to say we was slackin' off."

"That girl needs to get out more," Vacy replied, rolling her eyes. "Maybe next time I should drag her along as well."

As they stepped off the barge, Corso chuckled. "I expect it'd make for an interesting evening," he said dryly.

* * *

Corso lay in his bunk, trying not to fidget. It seemed like it must've been at least fifteen minutes since he'd heard Risha quit moving around over on the other side of the room. The ship was as close to silent as it ever got; there was no noise beyond the ever-present whurr of the air circulation and the various beeps and pings of status checks.

He'd had common quarters before, with Viidu's crew, but that was just with the guys; there'd been a separate room for the women's bunks. Space was at a premium on a ship – kinda ironic, that, since there was certainly plenty of _space _all around! – so it made sense to have everyone just kind of pile in together. Still. It made things a mite awkward, least to his way of thinking.

Each morning he tried to make sure he was up and out of the room well before Risha so much as budged. He didn't know what she wore to bed, and he wasn't all that interested in finding out. Actually, it wasn't so much that he wasn't interested as it was he wanted to keep himself physically intact. Risha didn't seem the sort who'd respond well to that sort of completely-harmless curiosity.

At any rate, he didn't think it would be too much trouble to get out of the room without disturbing Risha. The trouble lay in other directions.

If he took a right and headed directly to the workstation, he'd pass the C2 unit on his way. Corso figured it ran on low-power mode at night, but then, it tended to abruptly blather at whoever passed by, and he wasn't sure whether that feature stayed active or not.

On the other hand, if he took a left, he'd avoid C2, but he'd have to go past the captain's cabin. She was probably asleep by now, but he didn't much like the thought of trying to explain why he was sneaking past her door at all hours of the night. Especially with her in that soft little nightshirt that left her arms and shoulders bare and only just came down over… oh blast it.

_Definitely time for a distraction, _Corso thought to himself with a sigh. He reached over beside his pillow and grabbed the clothes he'd stashed there that evening, pulling on the shirt quickly, then swinging his legs over the side of the bunk and stepping into his trousers. They were a little snug in certain areas, but he'd learned to grit his teeth and do his best to ignore that situation.

The metal floor was chilly under his bare feet, but he'd certainly had practice dealing with worse in terms of discomfort. Corso quietly shuffled over to the open doorway and leaned out, listening.

He decided to go left, cutting past the holoterminal. If he woke the captain, or if she was already up, so be it. He'd just tell her that he was going to go make some adjustments to Grabber, which was the truth – at least, from a certain point of view. And if he was a bit nervous in talking to her, well, there certainly wasn't anything unusual about that. Especially if she was in that nightshirt. Corso clenched his jaw as he felt a rather ungentlemanly throb.

Walking a little more quickly, he tried not to imagine sliding his hands up her thighs, pushing the nightshirt up over her waist and – stars, this was completely inappropriate. _Gear. Think about your gear, and what modifications you'll need to make._

He reached the technical bay without incident and ducked around the corner. The crew locker opened with a gentle *click* and he dropped to a knee. As quietly as he could, Corso pulled his weapons out, setting rifles and pistols to the side and then reaching in for his beloved harpoon, Grabber. His eyes lit up and he couldn't hide a grin.

This was going to be absolutely blasted amazing.

Again taking care to make as little noise as possible, he set his rifles and pistols back into his compartment in the locker, then closed the door again, picked up Grabber and took her over to the workbench. His grin broadened when he saw the crate underneath. He pulled it out carefully, unlatched the top and set it to the side.

His chestguard was on top, and he quickly pulled it out and set it gently to the side, followed by his greaves, bracers, belt, and gloves. He smiled a bit as he reached in again and picked up the digital helmet – it was such a bitty thing, but it'd saved his hide quite a few times in the short while he'd been wearing it.

Then he took a slow breath and looked back into the crate, and his eyes shone. He reached inside and ran his fingers over her smooth lines. His mouth was dry, and when he finally found his voice, it came out in a husky whisper.

"Hello, beautiful."


	5. Subtext

**Chapter 5 – Subtext**

* * *

Corso Riggs licked his lips and reached down, lifting carefully. "Heeeere we go, darlin'," he whispered as he cradled her to his chest, unbending his knees to stand up. "I've got somebody I'd like you to meet." He turned to the workbench and lay her down as gently as he could, though she still thunked heavily against the cold metal surface.

"Looks like somebody at least kept you useful," he said, leaning close to examine the jetpack he'd salvaged from the corpse of the bounty hunter Rogun had sent after them. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "But not much more," he added, spinning one of the fans on the left thruster and noting its sluggishness. He straightened, rolling his shoulders, and smiled. "Don't worry, girl. I'll take good care of you. I promise. And hey, you'll have a new partner, here, soon's I adjust the holster to fit alongside ya."

It was several hours before Corso as much as looked up from his new sweetheart. He hadn't done much more than get her cleaned up – perhaps the bounty hunter just hadn't had a chance, what with being dead and all – and check her features. She was a Mitrinomon Z6, but she'd had her grapple switched out for the missile launcher, which was even hotter, to his manner of thinking. He couldn't seem to take his hands off of her or even so much as look away. It was going to be torture to wait until morning to slip her straps over his shoulders, power her up and send himself hurtling through the air at breakneck speed.

He smiled, resting his palm on her fuel cylinder. "I'm gonna call you Ms. Puffs."

Putting away the various brushes, greases, cleaner and oils he'd used to restore Ms. Puffs to pristine condition didn't take long, and he returned to the workstation and set Grabber beside her, resting his hand on her barrel for a moment. "Didn't think I'd forgotten you, I hope?" he asked his faithful harpoon with a smile.

Corso took a step back from the workstation, looking at his two ladies sternly. "Now I want you two to play nice together. I know sometimes it ain't easy to share. You want all the attention for yourself. That's understandable, but it ain't acceptable. I might be workin' with Hewie, Sugarbomb, or Sparky for awhile, and goodness knows I miss Torchy pow'rful bad, but that don't mean you oughta kick up outta nowhere just so's I notice you again."

Though he'd never admitted it to anyone, or even so much as spoken the thought aloud, sometimes Corso felt a little bad about using a blaster pistol – any blaster pistol, even one as smart and reliable as Sparky – when the one he really wanted was still in the hands of that dirty rotten thief Skavak. It always ticked him off when he saw people treat their weapons disrespectfully, so he tried to make sure he didn't neglect Sparky just because she wasn't Torchy. But he still couldn't seem to shake the feeling of dishonor.

Even though it wasn't by his choice that Torchy was gone, it felt like he was cheating on her. And worse, it was like he was just stringing Sparky along, because he knew that the second he had Torchy back in his hands, Sparky'd be in storage. He glanced guiltily back at the crew locker. "Don't worry. I promise I won't just vendor you, Sparks. I'll find somebody who'll treat ya right."

Most people never realized what it was like to find a weapon that seemed like it'd been designed and crafted just for you. One where as soon as it rested in your hand, somehow you knew it so well you didn't have to think about how it'd respond in unusual or stressful situations because it was like a part of yourself you hadn't known was missing. You didn't have to think about what to do with it because it came as natural as breathing. The timing of a charge, the heat of an overloaded fuel cylinder, the angle of the crystal, everything just worked together to make it _right._

Not perfect, mind. There'd likely be plenty of folks she wouldn't suit. To Skavak, she was probably just another blaster. He probably hadn't even intended any kind of personal insult when he took her, just figured another gun would likely come in handy. No, Torchy wasn't some kind of mystical ideal weapon.

But they'd been right for each other.

Corso let out a long sigh as he shook himself from his reflection, then looked again at the workbench.

There were dozens of drawers of varying sizes that held all kinds of tools, equipment, and materials for adjusting their gear and even sometimes creating new pieces. Corso rubbed his nose, humming a bit as he looked through some of the smaller drawers for the supplies he'd need to attach Grabber to Ms. Puffs' harness. "All right, guess that oughta do it," he murmured, setting things out neatly on the counter.

He slipped on a pair of tinted goggles, tightening the cords, and then turned Ms. Puffs on her side. He looked over her rigging carefully, then punched a row of holes in one of the straps along her right exhaust. That way he could reach back over his shoulder to pull Grabber out of the holster.

By the time he was tightening the bolts on the holster that he'd secured to the harness, he'd lost all track of time, though he could feel the strain in his knuckles, up through his arms and shoulders, and in the general exhaustion that ached through him all over. So he shouldn't have been too surprised to hear footsteps behind him. It was the sound of the captain's voice that made him whirl around with a pasted-on smile, his heart in his mouth.

"Corso Riggs – WHAT is THAT?"


	6. Corso Riggs Can't Lie

**Chapter 6 – Corso Riggs Can't Lie**

* * *

"Uh… mornin, Captain!" Corso could tell that his stretched-out mouth wasn't exactly _smiling_, but it was the closest he could manage. "I'm just, ah, makin' some adjustments to Grabber."

Fortunately, Vacy had at least pulled on a pair of trousers underneath her nightshirt. Her arms were folded tightly, her stance wide and challenging, and her eyes narrow in suspicion. Or maybe anger.

Corso wasn't sure which of those would be worse.

"No, Riggs," she said quietly, and Corso gulped. That quiet tone meant things were worse than she thought. "Don't play dumb with me."

With a sigh, he stepped to the side, looking guiltily at the combo-harness with Grabber and Ms. Puffs. "Uh. Well. See... when we were facing off with that bounty hunter, you said… about his equipment, and I saw this, and I figured hey, it might come in handy. Be kind of useful. So I kind of picked it up? Since you said it'd be okay..." That not-a-smile was back, and he realized he was babbling. He reached behind his head, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.

Her tone was cold and crisp. "I never said any such thing," she clipped out.

Corso threw his hands into the air, eyes wide. "You did! You said I could have it before we sold it for scrap!" There was a note of desperation, and he cranked it up a bit, because surely she wouldn't get really honest-to-goodness angry about this, and maybe if he could make her grin a bit she'd be okay.

"I did not!" she snapped back, jabbing a finger toward him, eyes flashing. "I said 'maybe,' for one thing, and I was talking to him, not you, and – and it was WITTY BANTER."

Was she sputtering because she was frustrated or because she was trying not to laugh? He decided to play it close to the vest for now. "C'mon, Captain," he wheedled. "It'll be soooo useful. When we're fightin' a buncha gangsters or droids or whatever, I can zoom right on in there, keep their attention while you pick 'em off from cover." His voice trailed off and he watched her expression carefully.

Vacy took a slow, calming breath and lowered her voice. "Riggs. Those things are **illegal** in populated areas."

He sighed, looking down at his boots. In a small voice, he retorted, "only if you use 'em…"

"Which you are NOT going to do." Vacy cut him off. She set her jaw, vowing to resist the urge to give in… despite the soft sadness in that lower lip of his. _Dammit,!_"This whole planet is a gorram city, Riggs! It's not like they've got some kind of untouched grassland a few klicks east of the spaceport where you can go fly around and not kill anybody besides yourself."

Corso looked up again, his dark eyes pleading. "Well... can we go somewhere else?"

"Like where?" she scoffed in reply. "Coruscant? Back to Mantell?"

He rocked back on his heels, popping his knuckles one by one. It took him a little while to muster up the courage to look her in the eye. "... Taris?"

Vacy blinked. And then – she couldn't help it – she burst out laughing. "Only you, Riggs. You are the only person in this entire galaxy who'd risk getting infected with the rakghoul plague so he could go play with his new toy." Still laughing, she stepped forward and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him and patting his back.

And then she froze.

All the humor wiped from her expression, Vacy stepped past Corso, brows pulled together, looking down at something on the floor. "Riggs – your armor." She looked from it to the open crate beside it, then back to the armor, then back up at him. Her expression carefully veiled, she regarded him evenly. "That was why you took your armor off and we hung out on the barge. It was so you could get the crate delivered and put away before I got back to the ship."

"Wait – what?" Corso looked down at the crate, and his eyes widened. "Captain – no – it wasn't like that at all, I swear!"

Vacy's expression didn't change in the slightest. "The jetpack isn't legal because it isn't safe. Get rid of it." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Corso reached out, grabbing her elbow. "Captain, wait!"

She looked at his hand, her brows arched in disbelief. Then, still freezingly calm, she looked him in the eye. "That wasn't a suggestion, Riggs." And she yanked her arm away and walked out.

* * *


	7. Secret Weapon: Sad Puppy Eyes

**Chapter 7 – Secret Weapon: Sad Puppy Eyes**

* * *

When she heard the knock at the door to her quarters, Vacy took a moment to check her composure. Expressing emotion wasn't a problem; it only became one when you were expressing something other than what you intended to. Standing up, she smoothed the creases out of the covers on her bed, then walked over to the door and pressed her palm to the panel beside it. The door slid open with a soft hiss.

As she'd expected, Corso Riggs was standing there. His mouth was a thin line, and he was rubbing his thumbs along the back of his knuckles. As soon as the door began to open, he straightened. "Captain, you need to know, that wasn't how I meant things at all."

Her expression didn't change. She simply looked at him for a few moments, and then nodded. "I understand." She reached for the panel again.

"No – wait – ow!" He stepped forward, blocking the doorway, and as the door slid closed it pinned him. He hissed, clearly in pain, but otherwise didn't move.

Somehow his obstinacy was both annoying and endearing. "Riggs, these are my private quarters."

He couldn't have freed himself; the door's pneumatics whined as it still tried to close. But he wasn't fighting it, either. "Just thirty seconds," he grunted out. "Please."

She could have told him to leave; she doubted he'd disobey a direct order. But the offense had not been great, and she'd responded rather harshly. She supposed it was only fair to give the kid a chance to attempt an explanation for his foolishness. The possibility that the pain in his eyes wasn't from being wedged between the door and the frame didn't influence her in the least, of course.

Vacy pressed the panel a third time, and the door groaned as it opened again. She frowned; hopefully C2 could repair that without too much effort or expense. Then she looked back to Corso.

His face was still a bit flushed, though he was relaxing somewhat now that he wasn't being crushed. "I didn't plan any of that out at all. It was just that I was still kind of thinking about the jetpack when you said about dancing, and then I mentioned my armor, and everything kind of came together and I had this idea." He looked away, his shoulders drooping a little. "I didn't… I guess I thought once we had the jetpack, maybe I could show you how useful it'd be, or we could just take it out for a spin and hey, if it didn't work out, no harm done. But I didn't want you to just say 'no, that's not an option' before you'd seen the possibilities."

She blinked, tensing, but he didn't look up, and as she searched his expression, she couldn't see any evidence of hidden intentions. It was hard to imagine that his talent for deception went so far beyond hers. _Or you could be seeing the meaning that you want to be there,_ her survivor-voice lectured. Her stomach clenched in fear.

When he did look at her again, there was an intensity in his gaze that hadn't been there before. Vacy was glad she was listening, rather than speaking, because she wasn't sure she could trust that her voice would be steady.

For several moments, he just looked at her. "But that isn't the point, not really. I just – I wanted to make you smile, Captain. Really. And I'd never want to do something that'd hurt you. Not ever." He took a shaky breath. "The idea that you're gonna remember last night as just… some… distraction…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Captain, that ain't how it was. Not for me. And… I'm sorry. You've no idea how sorry I am."

_Watch yourself, girl. You're a pro; you can handle this._ She nodded. "Apology accepted, Riggs. For future reference, I hope it's clear that I will not tolerate any deception from my crew. Is that understood?" She kept her tone brisk and professional.

He swallowed. Nodded.

Unfortunately, the ache in his dark eyes was still there. Vacy clasped her hands behind her back, clenching them into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Good," she said crisply. "Now, where's the jetpack?"

"None of us are trained in salvaging parts from used equipment," he said quietly. "So I sent C2 out to sell it for scrap."

Vacy pulled her holocom out of the pocket of her trousers, and flipped the channel switch. "C2, what's your location?"

Almost immediately, there was a faint hiss of static, and the droid responded, "I am aboard a taxi to the Lower Promenade, master, with items to be sold. I will return in approximately eight minutes."

"Belay that, C2," Vacy said. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Corso straighten a bit. "Bring everything back to the ship immediately." She closed the channel and put the com away, then looked back at Corso, who was doing everything he could to keep his expression neutral. But his eyes were sparkling and she thought if he bit his lower lip any harder he might draw blood. "I owe you an apology as well, Riggs. I should've listened first rather than jumping to conclusions. What you did was – maybe not wrong, but at least unwise – but I can understand your reasoning."

She folded her arms. "As it turns out, Risha says we need to head to Tatooine. Now, under no circumstances are you to be anywhere near a settlement." He nodded enthusiastically and she clenched her hands into fists, keeping her expression stern. "And you are **never** to operate it without someone else present in case something goes wrong." He nodded again, and now he was beaming. She folded her arms, her gaze locked with his.

And then she smiled. "All right, Riggs. You can keep it."

He let out a whoop of excitement and bounded down the hall toward the exit hatch.

* * *


	8. No Reason for Jealousy

**Chapter 8 – No Reason for Jealousy**

[FYI – Vacy & company got to Tatooine BEFORE the plague hit. I'm just behind in writing stories. Sowwy!]

* * *

Landing on Tatooine was a cinch compared to Nar Shaddaa with all its traffic. Even Taris had been busier, given its location and the fear that the rakghoul plague would spread off-planet. There'd been a cloud of Republic military ships hovering over the spaceport. Fortunately the controls on the XS were incredibly responsive – sometimes Vacy thought Flashy might get jealous of how much she gushed about how sensitive they were – which made the _Wonder_ impressively maneuverable given its size and weight.

Vacy locked the controls, picked up her Darmas-bag and slung it over her shoulder, and headed off the bridge. She smiled as she passed Corso. "Got everything?" she asked.

"Just about!" he called as she headed left through the comm center toward the exit.

The hangar bay on Tatooine was about the same as anywhere else, except hotter. Vacy tugged at the heavy padded collar of her reinforced jacket, sighing. She could already feel her skin beginning to prickle uncomfortably.

But right then, the thunk of heavy boots on the metal ramp caught her attention, and she looked up to see Corso clomping down toward her with a grin so broad it threatened to split his face. "Ready to go, Captain!" He turned around, arms out to the side. "How's she look? Ain't she fantastic?"

Vacy felt her left brow arching sharply as her mouth pulled to the side. "I'm reserving judgment for now," she grumbled. She threw her leg over the seat of the speeder, scrunched forward to make room for Corso, and flipped the repulsors into gear. She always tensed, just a touch, when he wrapped an arm around her waist to brace for the sudden jerk when the speeder lurched forward. But a moment later, they eased into each other and were racing through the spaceport.

* * *

When they passed through the archway out into Anchorhead proper, Vacy felt like she'd had a pillow shoved into her face. The heat was so stifling that it was hard to breathe, and the sand drifting up from every direction didn't help. Vacy leaned the speeder to the side, heading off the entry/exit path, and paused to let her eyes try to adjust. Tatoo One and Two weren't powerful individually, but combined, and with the refraction from the sea of sand all around, the glare was intense.

Shading her eyes, she noticed movement of a different sort. She squinted – it was a rather portly fellow waving his arms. She checked the path, then released the brake and the speeder lurched a bit before humming easily toward whoever had been trying to get her attention.

He jogged toward them, puffing even just the few meters. "Whew! Hot enough for you?" he said with a weak chuckle. When Vacy just sighed, he shrugged. "Hey, it was worth a try. I'm Sheriff Encott. You look like a capable sort, and we could use some help. The Twin Suns pirates have always been a problem, but lately they've stepped it up a bit. Guess they've gotten away with murder for so long that it got to be old news. Now they're selling our people as slaves and we won't stand for it."

Vacy considered this for a few moments. Encott didn't seem the sort who'd have a lot of resources at his disposal, so the pay for completing the job was likely to be low. On the other hand, 'pirates' usually meant weapons stockpiles and various other items of value that wouldn't be missed by anyone other than their former owners.

She felt Corso fidget behind her, and she twisted, looking over her shoulder at him. He just looked at her for a long moment, then at Encott, then back to her. And he lifted his brows in a silent, hopeful question.

Shaking her head, Vacy chuckled. "All right, Sheriff. We'll take care of it." She felt Corso's arm tighten around her waist and her grin broadened as she revved the motor.

* * *

"Captain, shouldn't we've taken that path heading north?"

Vacy shook her head, shouting back at him over the noise of the wind and the whine of the motor. "Nah – we need to hit the cantina first. I didn't realize just how bad it was. Figure we'll need heavier canteens. We can leave 'em on the speeder so they don't get in the way while we're in the middle of things. I just don't want to be heading back to a base every hour or so for more water."

They reached the entry to the cantina and Vacy twirled the speeder around expertly before activating the security features and then shutting the speeder down.

Corso stepped off first, then offered Vacy a hand. "Spose that makes sense. Still, the sooner we free those slaves, the better. Even if it's just a few minutes' difference – that's a few minutes more of freedom, y'know?"

She smiled wryly, stepping down as well. "I promse, Riggs, we'll get there as soon as we can." They stood there a moment; it took a conscious decision to let go of his hand before heading into the cantina.

It was crowded, dark, and dingy. Vacy felt bile welling up her throat from the sour smell that hung in the air. When her holocomm buzzed, she nearly jumped. "Hey, will you go get us a couple of canteens? Nice big ones. I don't care if they're filled or not. I'll be quick with whoever this is, and we can head out?" Corso nodded, heading over to the bar to see what was available for purchase, and Vacy took out the comm and opened her channel.

Her eyes widened just a bit. _Well, hello, handsome._ She wasn't sure what caught her attention first, whether it was his gently shimmering eyes or the soft curve to his full lips. But she felt her heartbeat speeding up either way.

And then he spoke, and that just made everything even worse. "Name's Syll Fauler. I've got a rather interesting problem and I heard you might be able to lend a hand. Unofficially, of course."

"Well that depends." Vacy heard the purr in her voice and debated dialing it back a few notches. But what was the harm, really? She let a slow, seductive grin tug at the corners of her lips. "What're you prepared to offer in return?"

Fauler looked over his shoulder, then back at the holocam. "There's a good bit of money involved, but more importantly, there's an awful lot at stake. I'd really rather not say more over an open comm. Any chance you could meet me somewhere in person?"

Vacy's brows lifted. "It sounds like you've already got something in mind," she said with a small smirk. _Oh, sugar… this better be going where I think it's going._

"I've got a sort of … embassy … downtown here in Anchorhead. Given the ambient noise – you're at the cantina, right? – it shouldn't be far. I, ah… hope to see you soon." His mouth – _**luscious** mouth_, her devil-voice interjected – curved up in a quiet smile.

"My partner and I will be there shortly," Vacy replied, biting back a grin when she saw his smile falter. _Bingo._

He nodded sharply. "Fauler out."

Vacy flipped the comm inactive, and turned around, looking over toward the bar. But Corso was approaching already, and he smiled broadly when he saw her looking his direction. "Everything green?"

It seemed only natural to smile right back. "Leafy," she said with a chuckle. They walked back outside; Vacy linked her datapad to the mailbox and downloaded the coordinates Fauler had sent her. "We've got one more stop before we're on our way. Shouldn't take long, though." She closed the connection and unplugged the datapad, slipping it back into her jacket before hopping on the speeder and scooting forward. She keyed in her code and wrapped her fingers into place, and the speeder hummed to life.

Vacy felt the vehicle lurch a little as Corso secured the canteens underneath the seat – clearly he'd already had them filled. And then, once more, as he slid on behind her and wrapped his arms around her. When he leaned close, she could feel his breath whisper past her chin, and she swallowed thickly.

"Any time you're ready, Captain." His voice was low and gentle. Then again, it always was, of course.

But for some reason Vacy couldn't _quite_ convince herself that it was the thought of Fauler that had made her heartbeat quicken as they sped toward the coordinates she'd been given.


	9. A Line in the Sand

**Chapter 9 – A Line in the Sand**

* * *

"This is right, according to the coordinates." The speeder hovered outside the entrance to an old warehouse. Vacy frowned, but parked the bike in a nearby corner and reset the security features before stepping down.

Corso shrugged. "Well. Least we can check it out?"

She nodded. "Just – you haven't tested Ms. Puffs yet. So if there's any trouble, stick with your other equipment." Her eyes twinkled a bit. "You've got plenty of it, after all."

He let out a deep sigh, grumbling under his breath, but then nodded. "All right, Captain."

* * *

"Leave me alone! I haven't done anything to you!" A whiny voice pierced the relative darkness as Vacy and Corso paused just inside the doorway, blinking until they could see.

A small man cowered in front of a group of significantly larger men. With guns. Vacy looked at Corso, and nodded toward the group. The pair approached quietly.

"You stole corporate documents, Kamus," said one of them, his jacket fancier than the others'. "Czerka doesn't take kindly to industrial espionage."

Vacy heard another voice behind her. "Contact – unidentified subject, possibly a collaborator." She looked over her shoulder and swore quietly, looking at Corso with a sigh and a shrug of apology. Apparently there had been _four _of the goons. The leader of the group turned sharply, nodded to the man behind them. "You know the drill. No survivors, no leaks."

Definitely not a phrase Vacy liked to hear. She stepped forward, putting her hands on her hips. "What's your problem with this pipsqueak?" she asked, tilting her head toward the man they'd called Kamus. "He's really some kind of threat?"

The squad leader smirked, swinging his gun up toward her, and Vacy gulped. "Sorry, lady. Wrong place, wrong time. Open fire!"

At that, Kamus shrieked and ran.

_Great. Of _course_ you're useless in a fight. _Vacy scrambled to a nearby computer terminal for a bit of cover. She heard Corso's yell as she charged Flashy, and she couldn't hold back a smile.

When she popped up and fired a series of shots that dropped one of the goons, Corso was already in the thick of things. He'd yanked one of them over toward him, and another had followed. He had a few scorch marks on his armor but seemed to be doing well, so Vacy turned her attention to the leader.

He didn't seem to be paying any attention to her at all. Vacy wasn't sure which she felt more of – relief at not getting shot at (or at least, not much) or annoyance at running into yet another sexist bastard who figured her for some no-account fainter. She slipped Kablam out of his holster and snuck around behind him. She fired both Flashy and Kablam right between his shoulders, then hit him with a flash-bang, charged Flashy and shot him again, then kicked him between the legs for good measure.

Delight surged through her as he curled over and then dropped to the ground. She dropped to a knee and jammed Flashy's barrel against his temple. "Stupid pisher. Never ignore a lady." She smirked as she pulled the trigger.

That taken care of, she looked around for Corso. Her smirk faded when she saw him limping toward her. She rushed toward him, gently putting an arm around his shoulders. "Here, sit down. I've got you."

They sank to the floor together, and Vacy checked him over carefully. She reached down, flipped the latches to his chestpiece, and lifted it off. Most of the wounds were shallow, but there was one down below his ribs that was quite nasty. Vacy looked up at his face – paler than usual – and smiled softly. "Just hang on for a minute, all right?" She untucked his shirt, then reached into her Darmas-bag and rooted around for one of her kolto patches. Lifting his shirt, she set the patch over the wound and then lay her hand on top of it. He tried not to flinch; she tried not to worry.

Neither of them was particularly successful.

But as the patch warmed under her hand and the gel began to heal the wound, she felt his body begin to relax, and she smiled at him again. "Riggs, next time, try to _avoid _the blaster fire. You don't get paid according to how many holes I've gotta patch up," she joked.

He reached down and took her other hand in his. "I figure any of it that gets me is that much less you've got to worry about, Captain," he murmured, smiling back at her. "Besides. None of this is near as painful as seein' you get hurt," he added, squeezing her hand.

For some reason, her smile was a little wobbly. "Well then you sure's anything need to be more careful," she retorted. "Because losing you would hurt an awful lot." And her throat was tight, and her stomach was in knots, but she held his gaze anyway.

They stayed there for a few minutes while the medicine worked its way through Corso's system. Finally Vacy nodded at him and stood up.

"Besides," she said as she handed his chestpiece to him. "If you die, when I get Skavak? I'm gonna hand Torchy over to Risha."


	10. Uncomfortable

**Chapter 10 – Uncomfortable**

Corso gaped at Vacy in horror, but she just chuckled. "You got nothin' to worry about so long as you don't get yourself killed," she concluded as she headed toward the platform where Kamus had retreated.

He was cowering behind a metal railing. He peered out, and seeing Vacy and Corso still upright, stammered, "Is it safe? Are – are they dead?"

Vacy folded her arms. "Well aren't you just a little bundle of joy. What was all that about?"

The weaselly little man was gasping for air. He leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. "It's – well – they were – I – I gotta keep breathing. Whew. Okay." He finally managed to stand up. "My name is Kamus Orden. I used to be an accountant. Czerka sent them to kill me… company severance package."

As he was explaining, a dark-skinned man in a very well-fitting uniform strode up, looking annoyed. "What happened in here? Kamus, you know how I feel about corpses in my workspace."

Kamus whirled around and jabbed a finger at the man Vacy recognized from the holocall. "You were supposed to BE here! You promised I'd have PROTECTION!"

Agent Fauler just shrugged. "And you did, didn't you? You aren't even scratched." He nodded to Vacy with an appreciative smile, then looked back at Kamus. "Here I thought you might enjoy the, ah, change of scenery. Besides, this way, I get to LOOK like I'm being diplomatic with the locals." He walked over to Vacy, taking her hand in both of his. "Thanks for following through. Guess you figured out this isn't an embassy… and I'm no bureaucrat."

Kamus scowled at Fauler, then looked over at Vacy with a sigh. "Took him a MONTH to tell me that," he muttered.

"I just radiate trustworthiness, doncha know. And, uh, reliability. Oh yeah! AND I'm an 'upstanding citizen.' Almost forgot that one." Vacy crafted an innocent smile for Fauler, blinking widely. "ALL the handsome Republic paper-pushers that I know work out of warehouses and wear body armor." And then her smile twisted, turning wry as her eyes sparkled mischievously.

Corso moved forward a bit, standing beside Vacy. He folded his arms, frowning. "Handsome?"

"What, you don't think so?" She turned her innocent-face up to Corso, but he just scowled more, scuffing at the floor with one boot. Vacy slipped her hand from Fauler's and punched Corso lightly in the arm. "Aw, lighten up."

Fauler explained, "This is a Republic Strategic Information Service project – a major covert operation. Mystery, corporate scandal, and incredibly dangerous tech." He looked intently from Vacy to Corso and back. "There are a lot of lives on the line; you could make all the difference."

Rubbing her hand over her mouth to hide her smile, Vacy nodded. "Mmm. How many times did you rehearse that little speech?" And then she grinned, cutting herself off with the wave of a hand. "No – no – it's all right. That's just my big mouth. Go on; I'm listening."

Fauler went on to explain that Kamus found evidence of some kind of doomsday device, and that there was reference to files at a nearby compound. He said that he couldn't go himself, as he was known to be associated with the Republic, and it would raise the wrong sort of questions with the wrong sort of people. He fell silent, then lifted his shoulders. "I need someone whose affiliation is a bit more ambiguous," he concluded.

"All right," said Vacy after a few moments' thought. She folded her arms, looking at Fauler carefully. "So… what's my incentive?"

He returned the gesture. "You'll have the opportunity to serve our glorious Republic and save innocent lives."

Her eyes narrowed. One brow arched.

Fauler's eyes twinkled at her, and those full lips curved up into a smile. "And the credits," he added with a brief nod. "Piles of shiny, sparkling credits."

And at those words, Vacy smiled back. "Well now that's more like it. I think we might be able to work together quite well, Agent Fauler," she murmured.

Kamus cleared his throat. "Just be careful. Finding the files that Czerka left in that compound is important, but… don't get killed." He shivered, and looked over his shoulder.

Fauler smiled wryly at Kamus, but when he looked at Vacy, his expression softened. "Couldn't have said it better myself." He set a hand on her shoulder. "I'd like to see you come back safely," he said more quietly.

Corso draped an arm around Vacy's shoulders, his gauntleted hand landing firmly on top of Fauler's. "Oh, don't you worry, sir. I'll make sure she's all right," he said, fixing the darker man with a challenging stare.

At that, Fauler straightened and stepped back. His brows pulled together in a question, and he looked at Corso, then back at Vacy. "Excuse me," he apologized. "Is that…"

Vacy glared at Corso and stepped to the side. "My associate. Don't worry, he's completely trustworthy." She smirked, shaking her head, and then looked at Fauler again with a shrug. "Probably more so than I am, to be honest."

Agent Fauler looked down with a chuckle. "Not quite where I was going with that, but no matter." He nodded to Corso. "Good to have you on board," he said. Then he looked at Vacy again. He hesitated, then folded his hands behind his back. "At any rate, thank you for your assistance. And… good luck."

With a sigh, Vacy shook her head, shot another dirty look at Corso – who grinned back at her – and headed back toward the elevator.

* * *

When they stepped back out into the sun and the blowing sand, Vacy gasped, then coughed. "Stars! This is awful. I haven't even _done_ anything and I'm all gross and sweaty," she complained as they walked over to the speeder.

Corso held the little bike steady as Vacy slipped onto the seat. "If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't'a known," he said, climbing on behind her and holding on. She smiled until he continued, "I picked up an internal exhaust back on Nar Shaddaa after you said we'd be coming this way. Must be worth what I forked out for it, because I've been right comf'terble. Not too toasty, not too chilly. It's pretty nice."

Feeling cheated out of the flattery his first remark had seemed to lead up to, Vacy sulked a bit. "Yeah, well, just wait 'til you get sand in your gears. What then, mm? That fancy suit of yours seizes up, you're in trouble."

They headed north out of Anchorhead, sand kicking up below and behind them. "Nope," said Corso. "Self-cleaning, too. I made sure I was prepared, Captain." He chuckled. "Don't worry about me."

Vacy's mouth curved into a thin, tight, smile. _Oh, I'm not the one who should be worrying, Riggs._ Her devil-voice had started whispering some very interesting ideas. _There's more than one way of being uncomfortable…_

* * *

They were a few klicks from the town when Vacy lifted her hand to shade her eyes. "How about right up there?" she yelled back, pointing. "Don't see any womp rats, let alone anything bigger."

"Looks great." Corso's voice had the tinny quality it got when he had the digital visor down.

They pulled up and stepped off the speeder. While Corso checked the settings on Ms. Puffs, Vacy grabbed one of the canteens from under the seat and set it on the ground. She glanced over her shoulder, then stretched, arching her back and reaching out with both arms. "Ugh. This is awful," she said, and shrugged out of her jacket, laying it across the seat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Corso had gotten a bit distracted from his work. She forced a pout, then scratched at her shoulder, rolling her head side to side. "The sand just gets _everywhere_." And with that, she let her hand drift down her chest to the waistband of her trousers.

Corso's eyes widened. "Uh… Captain?"

She looked over at him. "What?" she asked, and untucked her shirt.

He turned a delightful shade of pink. "Ahm. Nothing. Just, uh… I'm ready to go." The pink deepened. "I mean, for the test." Looking anywhere but at Vacy, he shouldered into the harness again, fastening latches and tightening straps. His gloves were still off, but his fingers seemed awful clumsy.

_Plik. Plik. Plik._ There were seven snaps that kept Vacy's shirt closed. _Plik. Plik. Plik._ Corso was staring at a _very_ interesting rock formation. Vacy saw the lump in his throat bobble a touch, and she smiled. _Plik._

Peeling out of the shirt, she let out a long, low, breathy sigh of satisfaction. "That's ever so much better," she purred. "Hold on a minute, though, Riggs. I'm thirsty." And with that, she bent over – from the waist, of course, rather than crouching – and picked up the canteen. Standing, she unscrewed the lid, and then wrapped her lips around the opening, arching her back as she tilted the jug upward. So what if she tilted it a little higher than necessary? So what if the water sloshed out a bit, running down over her skin to leave dark splotches on her undertunic?

With a bit of a squeal, Vacy set the canteen down. "Blast!" she said, rubbing her hands over her torso. "That's chilly!" She looked down, and then grinned impishly. "Yup. Definitely chilly."

She walked slowly toward Corso, who was standing absolutely still. "Well?" she whispered as she looked up at him. "I'm ready." She paused. Licked her lips. "Whenever you are."

He took a hesitant step toward her, and gently set his hands on her bare shoulders. "No, Vee," he whispered back, his voice rough. "You're not. Not yet, anyway." With a quiet smile, he reached up, his index finger softly tapping each of the tattooed dots on her cheekbones. "But believe me, when you are?" He leaned close, resting his forehead against hers. "I'll be waitin' for you."

* * *


	11. So Happy Together

**Chapter 11 – So Happy Together**

* * *

Vacy took a shuddery breath. "I think I need some more water," she said with a grin that managed to be much more relaxed than she actually felt. She sashayed her way back over to the speeder and picked up the canteen again, though this time she just took a few gulps, closed it up, and re-secured it under the seat.

"So!" she said, turning back to Corso. "How's this thing work, anyways?" She shoved her arms into her sleeves, buttoning the shirt back up as she walked over to him again, all business now.

Corso had fastened the controls around his left bracer. "Well, you can set it to give voice commands, but I'm kind of nervous about that. I mean, what if I say a command word just in conversation? Go flying fifty feet to the left and slam into a pack of Imperial commandos? No thanks!" As he spoke, he pressed a sequence of commands into the keypad. "I figure a one-point-five second burst will be just about what I need for an attack run. These things don't have a whole lot of juice, so I won't be able to use it for travel or anything; still need the speeder for that."

He pressed another button, and started a bit when the control chirped at him. "Guess it's ready, Captain!" he said with a bright grin. "How 'bout you? Ready to see my first solo test flight?"

Vacy chewed on her lower lip. "I'll, uh… I'll be back over here by the speeder," she said, thumbing over her shoulder at it.

Corso flipped Ms. Puffs' power strip on, and the jetpack whispered to life. "Awh, c'mon! Don't you trust me?"

Leaning against the speeder, Vacy smirked. "Why d'you think I never let you drive?" she retorted.

With a cough, he looked down, blushing furiously. "Well – ah – I think maybe I oughtn't answer that."

Vacy's brows arched and her jaw dropped.

"Right, so, uh, here we go!" Corso reached down and grabbed both stabilizers, pulling on the thrusters. There was a roar; the air around him shimmered and he let out something between a yell and a laugh as he rocketed into the sky.

Lifting her hand to shade her eyes, Vacy watched him soar upward for a few seconds. She frowned as she saw him list to the right; clearly in choosing not to let him drive the speeder, she'd made the right decision.

And then the jetpack coughed – sputtered – and went silent.

She could see him flailing in the air as he fell. It had to be nothing more than a boyish prank. Surely he'd regain control, buzz just over the ground, and then laugh at her when she chewed him out for making her worry.

But he didn't slow in the least, and when he hit the ground, sand sprayed up around the impact, and then everything was still.


	12. Casualties

**Chapter 12 – Casualties**

* * *

Almost before she realized it, Vacy was swinging her leg over the seat of the speeder, reaching forward to gun the engine, only it wouldn't start – _why wouldn't it start – stupid security features_ – she ripped her gloves off, dropping them there in the sand, and grabbed the handlebars again. Fingers in place, she yanked, and the speeder whined and flew across the dunes.

She heard him before she saw him – the spatter of blaster fire echoed from the rocks around her. Clearing one of the dunes, she saw him fire at a womp rat that shrieked as it was hit, then jumped at him with a snarl.

Vacy leapt from the speeder, letting it fall to the sand, and grabbed Flashy, dropping to a knee and pulling a charge. Corso struggled as the beast hissed and spat, clawing at his face. He finally threw it to the ground, and both of them fired simultaneously. It continued to twitch lifelessly for several moments as smoke rose from its wounds.

"Spice," Corso breathed, dropping heavily to a knee with a groan. "Ain't ever seen a womp rat act like that."

Holstering Flashy, Vacy slipped her arm around his shoulders. "We've got other things to worry 'bout right now," she replied. "Darnit, didn't I _just_ tell you that you needed to be more careful?" She used a kolto patch to wipe at the cuts on his face, taking special care around his eyes. Fortunately they weren't deep and wouldn't add to the patchy scars he already had.

He laughed, wincing. "Guess it's a good thing we weren't on Nar Shaddaa," he said. "Mighta been a lot worse."

Vacy froze for an instant before she was able to put her supplies away. She didn't trust herself to say anything at the moment. With its towering cityscape, an out-of-control jetpack on the Smuggler's Moon would have meant certain death for Corso.

Several moments passed in silence as he watched her pack up. "I'm glad you were here," he said after a bit.

She yanked the bag up and dropped it over her shoulder. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't've had to be if we'd tossed that contraption out an airlock," she returned sharply. "As it is, now we've got to head all the way back to the ship to have C2 take a look at you and run some scans."

"I'm _fine_, Captain." He stood, but it was slowly, and Vacy saw the way his jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth against the pain. "Just got the wind knocked out of me, s'all. We need to go take care of those slaves!"

"You're _not_ fine, we are going back to the ship _right now_, and I'm going to melt Ms. Puffs into slag _**personally**_ if you –"

Corso held a hand up, frowning intently. "Hold on. Did you hear that?"

Vacy fell silent, then scowled even more. "Quit trying to distract me. I'm serious, Riggs, you need to be checked in case –"

He did it again, and this time she threw her hands up, storming away. He called after her. "No, honest, Captain! I think…" He walked around, eyeing the sand around the area where he'd fallen. "Here! It's coming from under here!"

Slowly getting to his hands and knees, Corso began rooting around in the sand. He slowed, then paused. His eyes widened and his shoulders drooped. "Oh…" he whispered. "Oh, no…"


	13. Sacrifice

** Chapter 13 – Sacrifice**

As Vacy approached, Corso looked up, and his eyes were wet. "Her cubs, Vee," he whispered. "She was just tryin' to protect her babies… 'swhy she was so fierce." He sat back on his heels and pressed his lips together tightly, blinking. "I musta landed on 'em when I fell. I think… I think I killed 'em." He closed his eyes, hunched over. "And then I went an' blasted their momma to bits, an' she just wanted to keep her cubs safe. Prob'ly din't even know it was already-" His voice cracked and he just shook his head.

Vacy sighed and knelt down beside him. "Corso, you didn't mean to," she said gently. She hesitated, then put her arm around his shoulders. "You had no way of knowing that burrow was there. Don't be so hard on yourself." _I can't believe I'm trying to make him feel better about a bunch of **womp rats**_. She saw movement in the sand in front of them, and tensed, her hand instinctively resting on Flashy's grip.

When she moved, Corso looked up. He frowned, reached forward, and brushed at the sand. "Hey," he said, smiling a little. "Hey, it looks like one of 'em is all right!" The pup was tiny, squeaking and wriggling in pain and fear. He scooped it up, cradling it under his chin, and laughed. "Hey now, quit that!"

Vacy bit her lower lip. "Ahm." She stood with a sigh. "Riggs – a cub that size won't survive out here on its own. It'd be cruel just to let it die of exposure or starvation. I'm sorry, but the kindest option is to just go ahead and shoot it now."

He froze, the laughter dying.

Vacy took a breath. _Stars, why is this so hard? They're **vermin!**_ But she found herself looking out at the horizon rather than at Corso. "You know it's the right thing to do."

"Yeah," he replied softly. He gently set the cub down on the sand and stood up. The pup yelped several times, then snuffled around the ruined burrow. Corso watched it for a few moments, smiling sadly, then took Sparky out of her holster and switched the ion chamber on with a flip of his thumb.

She stood there, looking out over the rolling dunes, waiting. She could hear the tiny womp rat scuffling around in the sand near their feet. She waited some more. Finally she looked over at Corso.

He had Sparky pointed at the pup. His shoulders were tight, his brows pulled together, jaw set firmly. Then he sighed. "I – I can't do it, Captain." He looked at her, shrugged. "I'm sorry. I just – he's so little, an' it ain't his fault." He let out a long sigh. "It ain't _fair."_

She nodded, then aimed Flashy at the womp rat. "You can turn around, if you want, Riggs." He did, and she saw that he closed his eyes as well. Shaking her head, Vacy tried to keep track of the little pup's movements – darn thing was so small, and it kept scampering around. She bit her lip and set the blaster for a multi-shot. It whined as it charged, but she heard something else. It couldn't be…

Vacy turned, peering at Corso. "Are you – are you _crying?"_

"NO," he retorted, a little too loud. And then he snuffed again, and shrugged. "Not much, anyway," he muttered.

There was a roar in the distance as the shuttle approached. Vacy cursed at herself silently, then holstered Flashy, drawing her flare gun and sending up a beacon. The flare lingered above them, and the shuttle turned toward their position.

She glared at Corso. "Pick that thing up and don't you DARE let it out of your hands, you got it?"

He blinked. A smile slowly broadened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. His gleeful **_Wooohoo!_** echoed from the rocks around them, and he pounced on the poor cub, nestling it close again. "Hey, Scruffy," he whispered, still beaming. "You're gonna be just fine."

Vacy folded her arms. "When we get back to the ship, you're gonna have C2 check your injuries," she snapped.

Corso nodded, doing his best to look serious. "Yes, Captain."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And _you're_ gonna be the one to tell Risha there's gonna be vermin aboard."

He gulped, but nodded again. "Yes, Captain."

The shuttle landed somewhat awkwardly on the sand, and the door hissed open. Vacy powered the speeder up and nudged it ahead of them as they boarded. "And if there are ever any problems, _you_ are gonna be the one dumping it outta the airlock."

He sat down next to her, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Captain," he whispered. And the shuttle lifted off and continued toward Anchorhead.

Vacy scowled. "Damn! I forgot my gloves."

Corso smiled at her. "I'll buy you a new pair," he said.

She folded her arms. "Well – all right then. Make sure they're good thick leather. Nothin' flimsy."

"Only the best for you." And then, smiling shyly, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Vacy blinked. She set her jaw and tightened her fists under her arms, sulking even more fiercely than before. Of course she didn't want to smile - not one little bit.

* * *


	14. New Friends

**Chapter 14 – New Friends**

"Um. Risha?" Corso approached her computer station slowly.

She didn't so much as turn to look at him. "Yeah? You need something, Mouse?"

He cleared his throat. "Is there a crate or somethin' I could, uh, use?"

"For what?"

"Well, ah…" He took a careful breath. "We're gonna be, um, transporting some live cargo."

Risha paused, frowning. "Captain didn't say anything about – Corso Riggs, what in the nine stars is _that?"_

Corso smiled, though it looked a mite uncertain. "This's Scruffy. He's gonna be our new mascot!" He cradled the womp rat a little closer (Scruffy was whuffling around kind of curiously), taking several steps back. "He won't be any trouble, I promise, I just gotta have somewhere t'keep him so's he don't get in your way."

"New mascot?" Risha's smile was thin and predatory. "What happened to the old one? Did somebody accidentally shove it out an airlock?"

"Well, see, I know that he might have a bit of a tendency to - ow! heh - chew on things," Corso squirmed, trying to avoid the wee creature's incisors. "And I know you've done a great job keepin' this ship runnin' smooth, so I figured maybe we could, uh, work together to Scruffy-proof a small part of the ship an' then just make sure he stayed - ow! - there."

Risha narrowed her eyes. "Well if someone wasn't bringing _vermin_onto the ship, we wouldn't have to worry about that, would we?"

Corso held the tiny ball of fluff out toward her. "Yeah but he's just a lil' guy, Rish!"

Scruffy paused in his attempt to gnaw through Corso's gauntlets. He looked up at Risha, snuffled a bit, and then his whiplike tail flicked happily back and forth.

Risha clenched her jaw. She was _not_going to smile. But when she held her hand out and Scruffy nosed at her fingers, then squeaked and rubbed against her, somehow she forgot the resolution she'd only just made, and her expression softened and her lips curved upward.

Corso frowned; something about this seemed awful unfair.

A moment later, though, Risha cleared her throat, stepping back. "Well, you better make sure that your /rat/ doesn't get into my things, Mouse, or you will be buying replacements. Go check with the droid – it knows the ship better than anyone."

With a hurried thanks, Corso rushed toward the exit hatch where C2 was typically stationed. The droid turned toward him, its golden optical receptors flickering in dismay. "Oh dear, Master Corso, what _have_you done to yourself this time?"

"What? Oh, no, it's nothin' – bit bruised, that's all. Here, can you take Scruffy an' put him in an appropriate cage or somethin' until me an' Rish get a more permanent habitat for him? I gotta unhook Grabber an' Ms. Puffs before the Captain's ready to head out again. You know what baby womp rats eat, right?" And without waiting for an answer, he set Scruffy in the droid's hands and half-jogged, half-limped toward the lounge to work on his equipment.

"This is highly irregular!" C2 called after Corso. "I'm not programmed to care for younglings of /any/ species!" But as usual, there was no one listening to its protests. The droid looked at the small animal that was snuffling at the smidges of grease that kept the manual joints operating smoothly, then gave a hiss through its voice modulator that might almost have been a sigh of resignation.


	15. Corso's Replacement

**Chapter 15 – Corso's Replacement**

Corso winced, cursing under his breath as he wrangled his way out of the shoulder straps of Ms. Puffs' harness. He clenched his teeth, breathing slowly and steadily as the pain in his side receded somewhat, then made his way toward the ship's lounge. It was difficult to walk normally, but he thought he did a pretty good job.

Vacy was there with Bowdaar. She frowned when she saw him walk in. "Riggs, shouldn't you be in the med bay?" she asked, peering at him somewhat suspiciously.

"Nah, I'm fine," he replied, waving one hand dismissively. "Already checked in with C2 an' everything, just like I said. Nothin' a little kolto won't fix." He set Ms. Puffs and Grabber on the counter, then rummaged through the drawers, pulling out tools and supplies. "Besides, I need to get Grabber offa here right quick so's we can head out an' free those slaves."

Glancing at Bowdaar with an apologetic smile, Vacy walked slowly up to the counter. "Ah… Riggs… I asked Bowdaar if he'd come along with me on that mission. You need to rest a bit."

Corso paused, setting his hands palm-down on the counter, and looked at Vacy, his jaw tight. "Captain, I told you, I'm _fine_. Now you're the boss, so if there's somethin' you need me t'do here, that's fine, but don't expect me to just sit around while you're out there gettin' shot at." He picked up a screwdriver with significantly more energy than was actually required and went to work on the harness.

It didn't take long for his shoulders to loosen up a bit, and a few moments later, a smile played over his lips. "Besides. That speeder of yours barely holds the two of us." He glanced over at Bowdaar, grinning. "Actually, might be rather innerestin' t'see just how the pair a' you manages to fit on that one little seat."

Vacy blushed deeply, pressing her mouth tightly closed. Wouldn't do to laugh, not at the moment. She looked at the Wookiee with her brows quirked upward. "He does have a point," she admitted.

Bowdaar let out a howl and a series of short barks interspersed with rumbling. _"Captain, if it is all the same to you, I would prefer not to fight, when possible. I know that you were introduced to me as a warrior, and it is true that I have no small skill at arms, but that was out of necessity due to culture and my enslavement. By choice, I am a pacifist."_

Given that his vocabulary up to this point had consisted of "I will never forget this service," "Yes, Captain," and "I will not fail," there were several moments of stunned silence that followed Bowdaar's speech.

"Well… Bowdaar… if that's what you'd like, sure, that's fine," Vacy said when she was coherent enough that she didn't think she'd stammer. She shook her head, as though to clear it, and then added, "Y'know, if you're gonna stay here, why don't you have C2 debrief you on the co-pilot's console and expected duties?"

Bowdaar growled his assent with a short nod and headed out to the hallway.

Corso looked up a moment later. "Captain?" he said quietly.

She turned around and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Have I… did I do somethin' wrong?" Grabber was back to her original state, if a bit worse for the wear. Corso had gathered up his tools, but had paused to look at Vacy, worry in his eyes.

Her smile faded and her brows pulled together. "Well – beyond nearly killing yourself with that thing?" she said, nodding to Ms. Puffs. "No… why?"

He went for a smile, but it was a little uncertain. "Just – well, first you ask me to stay here and you were gonna have Bowdaar go with you instead. Then you tell him to study up on co-piloting… and…" He lifted one shoulder, looking down.

Biting back a grin, Vacy nodded, her heart softening. "No. It's not like that at all." He looked up at her uncertainly, and she nodded again. "Honest. Cross-training's important in a small crew." She narrowed her eyes at him, one brow arching. "I mean, c'mon. You get yourself banged up all the time, Farm Boy. Sooner or later, the time'll come when for one reason or another, you can't be in that seat, and I'm gonna need somebody else to fill in for you. I s'pose it might not ever happen, but we need to be ready in case it does. I promise, though, it'd only be a temporary substitution."

She took a careful breath before continuing. "And… that brings up something I've been meaning to ask you. I'm gonna get Rish to give me some pointers on engine repair. But I need to cross-train someone to pilot if I'm not available." She saw him frown, and then his eyes widened as he realized what she was going to say a split-second before she said it. "Think you could manage that?"

"Pilot the _Wonder?_" He did a rather good impression of a ghoti, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly several times before he managed to stammer out, "I – well – Captain, I'd be honored to. If… if you're sure?"

Vacy reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "I am," she said quietly. "I trust you, Corso. There isn't anyone else I'd rather have backing me up."

He looked down and carefully turned his hand palm-up, and then closed his fingers gently around hers.

With a smile, she squeezed his hand, and then, laughing, she stepped away. "Now get a move on, Riggs, we've got some heads to bust!"

"Full speed ahead!" Corso replied. Smiling broadly, he slung Grabber over his shoulder and jogged after her.


	16. Well, That's One Way To Do It

**Chapter 16 – Well, That's One Way To Do It**

[AN: Okay, so if you've read this far, you know that I have a bad, BAD habit of ending my chapters in… ah… a particular manner that some people might find frustrating. Hopefully it won't be another four or five months until the next chapter, but just in case… you may not want to read all the way through. Just saying – you've been warned! *g* ]

"You should be able to see the warehouse up ahead anytime now. Maybe once we get to the top of another one'a these sand-hills." Corso's voice was thin and scratchy through the helmet's speaker.

_Dunes, Riggs. They're dunes, not hills._But Vacy's own small (yet stylish!) leather cap didn't cover her face, and so she kept her mouth closed against the stinging sand and merely nodded. And sure enough, when they crested the next one, there was a squat one-story building about half-a-klick ahead. Vacy paused, letting the speeder idle while the sand that swirled around their vehicle re-settled on the ground.

"Looks like there's an outcropping just past it where we can stash the speeder; then we won't have so far to walk. Plus that way we'll have some idea where it is once we're done," she said, gesturing a bit to the east. She adjusted the range and focus on her goggles, squinting a bit against the glare. "I can't see an entrance from here. I figure we split up to scout the perimteter, keeping in touch on comm, and then once we meet up we can figure the best way to get the people out safely."

"You're the Captain," came his not-too-certain reply. "I'm more of the 'charge in with guns blazing' sort, but then I guess that doesn't work too well in a rescue mission."

Vacy could hear the grin in his voice, and shook her head with a wry chuckle as she gave the speeder more power and headed them toward the rock formation. She gave the warehouse a wide berth, swinging around to stay well out of the interest range of anyone who might happen to be looking in their direction.

* * *

_ "Here's to the boys of Ord Mantell! Eat like rontos, fight like hell!"_

Ears plugged against outside noise, Vacy nodded to let Corso know that she could hear him through the earpiece, her ponytail bobbling with the motion. "Sounds great, Farm Boy, but I gotta admit, those aren't the lyrics I'm familiar with," she replied wryly.

_"Oh – uh – you've heard that one?!"_ His face quickly turned a bright shade of red, and he began double and triple-checking the fit of his armor. _"Yeah, uh, well, at least I was mostly on key?" _He peeked up a moment later, grinning cheekily, and gave her a thumbs-up as well.

She laughed quietly, rolling her eyes. "Didn't know it actually _had _a key," she retorted, and reached up to poke the little button in the center of the metal band on his forehead. There was a blue flicker around his head as the shield on his helmet shut off. Vacy reached up, grabbing the collar of his armor, and stretched toward him as she pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his impulsively. She let go a moment later, eyes alight, cheeks flushed. "Don't forget about me in the next five minutes, Farm Boy," she said, and flicked the switch to her stealth generator. There was a humming buzz of static as its field wrapped around her. "I'll take the south and east walls, and we'll meet up at the northeast corner?"

Corso's grin was even broader. _"Ain't likely to happen,"_ he replied. A moment later he shimmered out of sight as well. _"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you on the far side, Captain."_

Coming in from the southwest, the area just about looked deserted. As she made her way along the south wall, Vacy shuffled her feet cautiously. The stealth field smoothed out her footprints, but she always tried to be extra-careful on soft terrain. "How's it going over that way, Riggs?" she asked quietly.

_"Just peachy,"_ came the tinny reply. _ "Did a bit of extra sweating while a patrol passed by, but they didn't seem to react at all. Take it slow – they should be headed your way. You seen anything interesting yet?"_

There hadn't been anything but sand, sand, and more sand, but Vacy turned to look behind her. Sure enough, there came the patrol, just like Corso had said. "Nothin' yet," she replied. A moment later she frowned. "Hang on, I can hear something up ahead," she added, scurrying around the corner.

This was clearly the operating end of the warehouse. A large mechanical door had been raised, and a group of roped captives were being led out and around the northeast corner of the building. Slavers stood around in clusters – it was easy to pick them out, since they were the ones holding the weapons. They didn't seem particularly worried, and Vacy guessed that based on the way the prisoners trudged forward, they had been drugged.

She quickly filled Corso in on what she'd seen, turning around to check on the progress of the patrol as well._ "Yeah, they're loadin' everybody up into a transport,"_ came the grim reply._ "Good thing we got here when we did."_

"You're darn right about that. How big is the transport? Blast it – they're gonna come right by me! Hang on, Imma hafta hold still for a bit here." Vacy muttered a few more choice curses under her breath, then fell silent, watching the patrol move closer. If she stayed flat against the building, they'd pass within a few meters, but wouldn't actually trip over her invisible form.

She concentrated on the thin sound of Corso's voice through her earpiece._ "It's a freight skiff. There's probably twenty or thirty prisoners on there… maybe a dozen slavers? About half the crew. I figure three dozen total, tops. We hitch onto that speeder, let it get a good ways off, and we can pick off those slavers, free the cargo, take a coupla minutes…"_

One of the trio of slavers approaching waved at someone past her, but Vacy didn't dare move. Corso's plan sounded pretty good, she reflected as she felt herself begin to relax. Everything was going to be just fine. As she closed her eyes, she felt more comfortable than she had in a good long while.

* * *

"I don't see any more slaves bein' packed in, and it looks like they're gettin' ready to move out," Corso muttered. He looked around, but there hadn't been another patrol since the first one that had passed by. "You set to head after 'em, Captain?"

He waited, but there was no reply. Of course, she might just be waiting for that patrol to get past her before she answered. So he shifted his weight, crouching down and checking around him again. The freighter's engine chuffed to life, and he cupped a hand around his earpiece, just in case she had to whisper or something.

Still nothing.

"Captain?"

He wasn't worried – because of course there wasn't any reason to _be_worried – but this didn't seem like a particularly good time for one of her pranks.

"Vacy?"

Just then, up ahead, he heard some shouting. One of the slavers fired off a series of shots, running toward the vehicle and waving an arm. He pointed back behind him, and Corso looked to see that the first slaver was followed by another. The second one was carrying a limp figure slung over his shoulder.

And with each step he took, her ponytail bobbled in the hot, dry air.


	17. You Should Have Chosen Option A

**Chapter 17 – You Should Have Chosen Option A**

* * *

Corso tried to tell himself that it made sense for his throat to be tight and his mouth to be dry – after all, this was Tatooine, and the twin suns had been beating down all day. "Vacy, come in," he murmured. He listened for a response, anything, no matter how faint, trying to ignore the twisting knot in his gut.

The skiff's engine grumbled to life, and first the cab, and then the cargo compartment lifted off the ground. The repulsors groaned, sand whirling below the enormous vehicle. And then, slowly, the skiff began to move forward, picking up speed bit by bit.

Everything seemed suddenly tight – every muscle, every joint. He could feel his teeth clenched together and the folds of his gloves digging into his palms as his hands curled into fists. The bright midday glare brought the world around him into sharp focus, including the guards talking into their comms. His fingers brushed the controls of his own, scanning the short-range frequencies.

"… yeah, well, the boss better not spend the pot on whores ag'in. What he does with his cut ain't my concern, but my share better not git shorted."

"You jist better be glad they're outta range. Damn well git shot fer smartin' off."

"Wisht he'd left that little twi'lek for us. A red one, at that – bet she'd be a sweet piece."

"An alien? Chura yourself! That's just nasty."

"Well, he said they'd be back by nightfall, so I s'pose there's only so much of your share they can rodder around, neh?"

Corso shut his comm off entirely, the sour taste of bile thick on his tongue. 'Back by nightfall' at the rate the skiff was traveling meant there was no way they would be going all the way to Mos Ila; Anek was more likely, which meant they were headed around to the west.

His pace was steady, his breath even as he ran back toward the set of rocks where he knew he'd find the speeder. When he was sure he was far enough away that he wouldn't attract suspicion, he reached down and shut off the stealth generator. Its resistance evaporated, and his strides lengthened, his speed increasing easily. Moments later he was stepping up into the seat of the speeder, powering it up, and heading southwest as fast as it would go.

* * *

He knew of a spot where there was a set of switchbacks up a rock face on the way to Mos Anek, and while he had to take a more circuitous route to avoid being seen by the slavers, the speeder was light and handled easily. As he crested the final incline, he looked back and could see the freighter approaching over the last set of dunes. There wasn't going to be much time to set up his ambush, but it would have to be enough.

* * *

They were still a few klicks from Mos Anek, but both of the men in the cab were already making bets about which of their group would blow through his share first. Tatooine was a miserable planet – the heat and the grit couldn't be rightly explained to someone who hadn't experienced it – but that made for some sweet opportunities.

Suddenly a dark, cold voice interrupted them. "Hey assholes, you listening?" The sound was thin, coming from a small speaker.

The driver swore, reaching down to fumble at his comm. There was no further message, as though whoever was speaking was waiting for a reply.

"You grister!" snapped the other man, snatching the device from his smaller partner. "Supposed to have these off anyhow." He flipped the switch to transmit. "You don't wanna mess with us, bub. Git off our channel."

He switched back, then leaned out the window, hollering at the lookout crouched on the ledge of that side of the cab. "You spot anything? We got somebody poachin' our comms!" He sat back again, scanning the area around them, when the voice came through the comm again.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You have something I want. And if you drop your cargo now and leave, I'll let it go at that. But I swear to you by every grain of sand on this planet, if you don't, I will just kill you and take it."

The driver looked over at the man next to him, his expression uncertain. "Uh. Boss?"

But the larger man simply glowered back. He snapped the switch, sneering in reply, "We're transporting legitimate freight here, so you can toff it."

There was silence over the channel, and the slaver captain smirked at the driver, who shrugged, wheeling them around the first bend. The engine began to whine a bit as the incline increased. The driver adjusted the controls, the engine shifted to a lower, throatier groan, and the skiff lurched forward, picking up speed again.

The lookout on the driver's side shouted, and there was the chatter of blaster fire. "Kriff!" muttered the scrawny man, trying to get the freighter to move faster. "Jussek's down." The other lookout had drawn his blaster as well, and was shooting across the front of the vehicle, using the cab as cover. But when he leaned out to fire off another round, he jerked and fell, and the repulsors groaned as they pulverized the sudden obstruction.

The cab abruptly shuddered as a heavy weight landed on the roof, rocking it from side to side violently. The driver yelped, desperately wrenching the controls to keep the skiff from smashing into the rock wall beside them. "Do your job, you worthless rodder!" cursed the captain, snatching his blaster and firing up into the roof.

But the driver had no chance to reply, for an enormous blade smashed down through the roof, skewering him neatly before being yanked back again. His eyes glazed over, still wide in confusion, as he collapsed against the controls, blood dribbling from his mouth.

A form dropped down on the far side of the cab, and the slaver fired again, but the man simply ducked back. A moment later, the door was wrenched open and the captain found himself face-to-face with a harpoon gun.

"That was the wrong answer," snarled the voice he'd heard over the comm.


	18. Hero's Reward

**Chapter 18 – Hero's Reward**

[AN – So apparently the way to get lots of reviews is to have Corso brutally kill everyone. Well FINE, then! Review away. :D Also, if you remember the dance scene back in Chapter 3? I didn't realize that I was being influenced by one of my favorite documentaries, _Mad Hot Ballroom_. It's about a program in NYC public schools that teaches ballroom dancing to middle-schoolers. So you've got these 11-year-old kids learning how to merengue and foxtrot and stuff and it is just FREAKING adorable.

The fast song, where they're cutting loose and havin' fun, is something like youtube video K6U3FyJBv4 while the slow song is more like 9oDHw4wwTQI – except, of course, that Vacy and Corso aren't eleven. Soo… yeah. ;)

THIS chapter, however, is more strongly influenced by the "truth serum" scene from the movie _Knight and Day_.]

* * *

"… and I can't even begin to _tell_ you how _h'miliating_ it is to innerduce yerself as 'Captin' when you're getting onner _shuttle._"

The slaver snorted as he placed his next pazaak card on the floor of the cargo compartment. "Great!" he snapped at the drugged Mirialan. "Does that mean you'll shut up?" He turned to his Devaronian partner. "You sure we can't just shoot her? We could sell the parts…"

Since the interior of the compartment was dim as well as stuffy and hot, both slavers had glow rods perched over an ear, affording them just enough light to play. They'd pulled off their helmets and gloves – the slaves were bound and drugged anyway, and the heavy armor made the Tatooine heat even less pleasant. The Devaronian snorted. "In an Imp city? Neg that, Quan. Who'd buy 'em?" He peered at the cards that were out, then back at the ones he held in his hands.

Vacy was leaning against one of the other slaves, gesturing somewhat limply as she continued her seemingly-endless monologue. "I just don't unnerstan' why ever'body's always so _mean_ t'me. I mean, sure, Skavak's mad now, 'counta when I got my ship back it had that cargo in it, an' every time he tries t'cheat me outta a job it don't work, but that ain't _my _fault!"

It was then that the entire vehicle jerked, stalled, and then started forward again at a slower pace. The floor seemed to tilt as the freighter headed up the incline. The human slaver cursed as the flimsiplast cards slid around. "Quit stalling, Senator, and make your borkin' play!" By now, he was gritting his teeth.

"His naaaame isn't 'Senator,' it's Makelllllli," Vacy crooned out in a lazy sing-song. "Makelli-belli fo-felli, a-poodoo-foodoo so-smelly, me-my-mo-melli. Makelli!"

At this point they were both glaring at her. "That one weren't part of the original haul anyway," groused Quan. "If we-"

But whatever he was planning was cut short as the freighter swayed viciously from side to side and then slammed to an abrupt halt. "Cuck it!" snapped Makeli, scowling in the direction of the cab. "What're those gristers slagging about for?"

They sat there for a long moment in stillness, save for the whimpering of a few of the slaves. Despite their near-comatose state, they had been able to pick up on the change in the situation. After a bit, though, even that quiet murmuring died down into silence.

"Hahahahahaha…" The Mirialan's laugh startled both of the slavers. The lurching of the vehicle had apparently tipped her over; she lay on the floor, now, a low, inebriated chuckle slowly rolling forth. "Youuu guys are in sooooo much trouble."

"Chaos take you!" hissed Makeli. The two men slowly got to their feet, stacking the cards and slipping them back into the packs, grabbing for their gear and shoving it back on.

A sudden crash followed by shouting and blaster fire made the slavers fumble for their weapons, staring up at the unexpected – but unmistakable – sounds of combat. Something (someone?) slammed against the roof, and there was a scream that trailed off.

Over on the floor, Vacy giggled again. "Tha's not chaos, silly!" she chirped. Her broad smile was unsettling. "Tha's Corso Riggs!"

Feet pounded on the roof, thundering toward the rear of the freighter. The gunfire continued, interspersed with small explosions and rough shouting. Eventually, though, it died down, and again, there was silence.

There was a heavy thump from behind the vehicle. Quan and Makeli edged forward, weapons drawn, toward the door.

With a scream of tortured metal, it was wrenched open. The slavers squinted as their eyes adjusted to the glare further ahead – sunlight and sand created a blistering whiteness from which a figure emerged, striding toward them.

About a third of the way in, it stopped. "Captain?" came a rough voice.

"Heyyyy, Riggs!" replied the cheerful voice the slavers had grown to hate.

"I'll have you outta here in two shakes, Captain," rasped the man who stood facing the slavers. He pulled out an enormous vibrosword, his eyes narrowing. "I just got a bit of killin' to do first."

* * *

"Corso," Vacy murmured. Her head lolled to the side and she squinted toward the commotion.

"Little busy here, Captain," he muttered. Hewie hummed and slashed in the darkness. There were a series of grunts and gasps. He heard the whine of a vibroblade deepening as it cut into his armor, and he knew he was running out of time. _Don't let me die, _he prayed.

"Corso?" This time her voice sounded more plaintive.

Somewhere within him he found desperate reserves of power he hadn't yet finished off. He lunged, twisted, and the slaver next to him fell. Corso stepped past him, toward the other. The floor was already slick with blood; he wasn't sure how much of it was theirs and how much was his. The second slaver fired point-blank at him, and Corso heard a series of faint beeps before the hum of his shield went dead. _I got no time for this. _He grabbed the barrel of the man's gun, jammed it up underneath his helmet, and crushed his hand around the slaver's. Blaster bolts lit up the inside of the helmet. The body spasmed, and when Corso let go, it dropped to the floor.

"Vacy!" Already scrambling toward her, it was a matter of seconds before he crouched by her side. He didn't need to hear her response to know where she was; he was worried about _how _she was.

"Corso…" He slipped his arms around her, lifting her gently. Her unfocused gaze finally settled on him. "Y'don't seem very happy to see me," she pouted.

That was it? _That _was the reason for the pleading tone in her voice?

He reached up with one hand, tilting her face a bit more toward his. "I am **always **glad to see you, Vacy," he said huskily. And with that he pressed his lips to hers, and when her arms pulled him closer and she clung to him, it didn't matter that they were stranded in hostile territory on a barren planet. He lifted his head, and took a careful breath. "I love you," he whispered.

And in the darkness of the cargo compartment, her smile was brighter than the twin suns' noon. "Oh, Corso," she whispered back. "I love you, too." She chuckled softly as she pulled him to her again. "What took you so long?"

"I'll make up for it," he murmured against her mouth. "I promise."


	19. All In a Day's Work, Ma'am

**Chapter 19 – All In a Day's Work, Ma'am**

[AN: Please don't come after me with torches and pitchforks for how this chapter begins. ;) After all, it could've been worse; I could've used this for the ending to the previous chapter! ]

* * *

_Vacy looked unsteadily up at the man who had his arms around her. Her unfocused gaze finally settled on him. "Y'don't seem very happy to see me," she pouted._

With an enormous sigh of relief, Corso closed his eyes and pulled her more tightly against him. "I am, Captain," he whispered.

Her head lolled back and she grinned blearily up at him. "What took yeh s'long, han'sum?"

While he wished there was time for a climactic reunion scene like he'd imagined, in which the hero (him, of course) gets to kiss the lady (duh), Corso knew that their first priority needed to be getting to safety. He reached up and smoothed back a lock of hair that was plastered to her sweaty forehead. "Well, there were more'n a coupla fellas who seemed right determined to keep me outta here. Had t'take care a them first." Hopefully it was just the heat, and not some side effect or allergic reaction to whatever drug they'd given her. "I got the speeder stashed just up ahead. We can send medics back from the nearest Republic outpost, but we've gotta hurry. There's no way we can get everyone there – the freighter sort of crashed – and I don't want to leave the prisoners here any longer'n we have to."

Vacy nodded her agreement, even if the gesture was a bit more emphatic than it needed to be. "Or we could just stim ever'body with th'annidotes that Mekali's got in's medpack," she added.

He blinked. "Or – or we could do that." Setting her back against the side wall as gently as he could, Corso hurried over to the bodies of the two slavers. "Which one's Mekali?" he called over his shoulder.

"The horny one!" This was followed by a fit of slurred giggling. "Counta he's Devaronian, see?"

Rifling through the slaver's kit, Corso came across one compartment that had vial after vial of a clear, thick liquid. He brought one of the small syringes over to Vacy. "How do we know how much to use?"

Vacy lifted her shoulders with a snort. "Hey, Imma combat medic, not a doc. 'Sides, m'head feels kinda funny." She grinned. "Guess there's only one way t'find out!"

"Right," Corso replied, setting his jaw. He turned and jabbed the stim into the upper arm of the prisoner who was slumped next to Vacy. Flicking the activator dispensed the chemical.

A moment later, the man groaned and leaned forward, holding his head in his still-bound hands. "Hey… what happened?" he asked. He sat up straighter, blinking as he looked around.

Corso breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Y'got caught by slavers. They were takin' ya off to be sold," he said as Hewie hummed to life again. "Hold still," he added, gently touching the blade to the primitive ropes that bound the man's wrists.

"Thank you," said the man, sounding puzzled. He slowly got to his feet. "I – sorry – I don't want to sound rude, but… why'd you do it? What are you getting out of this?"

With a shrug, Corso shook his head. "There's prob'ly a bounty on some of these scum. But more'n that, slaving's a dirty business." He nodded toward the doors at the back of the cargo hold. "We're only a few klicks from Mos Anek. If you can make it there, you can either hire a speeder to go where you want, or at least contact someone to come get you."

The newly-freed ex-prisoner didn't waste any time making his escape. Corso took another syringe from the medkit and went to Vacy again. "This'll sting a bit, Captain," he apologized. He tried to be as gentle as he could with the stim, but even so, she let out a little yelp and her eyes widened at the pinch. Somehow the expression on her face as she looked at him hurt worse than any of the hits he'd taken from the slavers. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Vacy groaned, lifting a hand to her forehead. "No," she replied groggily. "S'all right, Riggs." She was still for a little bit, then shook her head, as though to clear it. "Urgh. I feel like a ronto danced on my face."

And with that, Corso found he could breathe more easily. If she felt well enough to attempt a joke, she was probably doing just fine. "I'm just glad you're all right," he said. "But we need to get outta here kinda quick. We're just a bit away from Mos Anek, and I'm not too keen on gettin' found by a buncha Imps."

"Right. Right." Vacy pushed herself upright and lifted to her feet. "I'm good." She looked around, and abruptly frowned. "Wait. But they're not."

Corso stood as well, placing a hand under her elbow in case she faltered. "No – but if you can use the stims from the medkit, and let 'em know they can get to Mos Anek, they will be. I'm gonna head up to the cab and pick up Grabber. I, uh… kind of had to leave 'im."

With each passing moment, she was able to stand straighter and think more clearly. "Yeah," she said. "Shouldn't take more than a few minutes. We'll meet up outside?"

He nodded. And then – before he could talk himself out of it – he stepped close, leaned down, and touched his lips to hers in an all-too-brief kiss. And then he stepped back. Gave her space. "I'm glad you're all right, Captain," he said conversationally.

"Never a moment of doubt, Riggs," she said with a firm nod, her expression matching his. "I know you've got my back."

His breath caught in his throat for a moment. But he simply nodded in reply. "Always," he replied. And somehow he managed to pull his mouth into a half-smirk, holster Sparky, and head out of the cargo hold without looking back at her.

He was almost proud of himself.

* * *

[AN: Aaaaand we're back to the status quo again.

… or are we? ;) ]


	20. Saying Goodbye

**Chapter 20 – Saying Goodbye**

Corso took a deep breath and reached up into the cab. One strong yank and the corpse of the driver tumbled out, landing heavily against him. He staggered back a step, his stomach clenching, and the body slumped to the ground. The driver's face was still frozen in a mask of surprise and terror, and as it stared up at him, he felt bile rising up in his throat. He turned, abruptly leaning over and spilling the contents of his stomach onto the sand at his feet.

He'd killed before; back when he first started working for Viidu he'd kept a tally of how many seps he'd taken out. After a few months the number hadn't seemed to matter as much and he'd lost count. But this had been different. Something within him had driven him not just to kill these men, but to ensure that they suffered as they died. He didn't know how, exactly, but he'd sensed the moment of their deaths, and whatever it was inside him had been darkly pleased.

With a shiver, he stepped over the body and up into the cab. Grabber lay across the lap of the dead slaver captain. When he'd shot the man, the grapple had refused to unfasten. Then, when the cable retracted, it had yanked the gun out of his hands, pulling it across the cab to where it now remained.

Ignoring the blood that had been seeping from the gaping wound in the center of the dead man's torso, Corso reached for his weapon and flicked the switch that would disengage the clasp. It clicked uselessly. He swore under his breath, set his jaw, and reached forward, into the wound.

Something squished, and Corso clenched his teeth, trying not to think about which organs he might be pushing out of the way. _Just get the clasp loose, Riggs._ He could feel the metal grinding against something else – probably bone – the spine? _Oh stars, dammit, DON'T think about that._

His fingers wrapped around the prongs of the grapple, and his focus narrowed to the resistance to his grip. For the moment, neither the heat nor the gore nor even the rapidly degenerating stench could distract him.

That was why he didn't notice Vacy trying to get his attention until the rock she threw hit him in the shoulder.

* * *

"Corso Riggs, what in _hell _are you doing?"

He whirled, eyes wide in horror. "Uh – Captain! Um. I… just… came back to pick up Grabber." He swallowed thickly, realizing what she was seeing, and did his best to shift to block her view, even though he realized it was already too late. _She's going to see me as a monster._

Vacy lifted both hands, as though to push away what was before her. "Hey – we'll talk about this later. For right now, though, time's running short," she said, staring at the door to the cab rather than at him. "I got the rest of the prisoners freed. Most of 'em are headed up to Anek, but there's one who's just layin' there. I figure we may need to get her to an actual doctor." Without looking up, she turned. "I can't lift her, and she ain't moving, so unless you think we should just leave her to fry, find some way to get yourself cleaned off and get back to the hold ay-sapp."

When she headed back that way without another glance at him, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His shoulders dropped in a mix of relief and discouragement. A moment later, though, he pulled himself up again. _Whatever she thinks, there's nothing I can do about it now._

With one last, wistful look at his beloved harpoon gun, he let go of the grapple, trying his best to ignore the squelching sound it made as he pulled his hands free. He hopped down from the cab and jogged back to one of the guards that lay sprawled beside the freighter. It looked to be one of the cleaner kills. He knelt beside the corpse and pulled out Shorty. A flick of his thumb brought the vibroblade to life, slicing quickly through the fabric of the man's shirt. Corso bunched it up, wiping sweat and dirt (and whatever else) off of his face, first, before rubbing it over his gauntlets and armguards.

He didn't have the resources to be thorough – nor the time – and so after taking care of the worst of the mess, he stood again and ran the rest of the way to the back of the freighter and up into the cargo area. "Captain?" he called softly, squinting into the darkness.

"Back here, Riggs," came the answering sigh. "I can't get this one to budge. I dunno, maybe she's touched in the head or something. Told her the same thing I told 'em all, that they needed to get to Mos Anek and grab a taxi, and nothing."

Corso could hear the exasperation in her voice, but as he crossed the length of the compartment and his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could also see shock and sheer terror in the posture and expression of the lethan who lay huddled on the floor. He walked past Vacy and knelt beside the twi'lek, hoping the sight of him wouldn't make things even worse. "Hey there," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "It's gonna get a mite uncomfortable 'round here before too long. Now I'm sure you've had an awful experience, but if you'll let me, maybe I could help you sit up?"

At that, her head turned toward him. "Who _are _you?" she whispered, her brow-ridge furrowing.

His mouth quirked up in a bit of a grin, his eyes twinkling as he held one hand out to her. "Well, ma'am," he replied, "we'd be the cavalry."

She slipped her hand in his, and ever so carefully, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering support rather than pulling as she sat up. "Thank you," she whispered, her gaze never leaving his face.

Vacy tossed her arms up with a rather unladylike snort. "Oh, great, I talk to her and get nothing, but you come in with that smoky deep voice and make eyes at her and everything's jake? Pf."

Corso looked over his shoulder, one brow arching. "Captain, I'll have you know that you ain't the only member of this crew who can be smooth from time to time. In fact, upon occasion, I've been known to be quite charming."

Muttering curses, the spacer put one hand on her hip. "Well then, Yer Highness, you'd best get your new damsel to shake a leg. Somehow I don't think Imps or slavers are liable to be as receptive to your charm. We need to scoot." With that, she turned on her heel and marched toward the door.


	21. You're My Only Hope

**Chapter 21 – You're My Only Hope**

* * *

"I am sorry," murmured the twi'lek, looking down.

"Hey." Corso's voice was firm. He reached under her chin, and gently tilted her head back up. "Y'got _nothin' _to be sorry for. Captain gets in a mood sometimes. It's kinda like a sandstorm, actually. Best thing for it is to keep your mouth shut and wait for it to blow over." She nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, if you think you can stand up, we'll get on outta here."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as her eyes widened again in fear. "No," she said firmly, although her voice trembled. "I can't."

It wasn't the response he expected. His brows pulled together as he looked at her. "The slavers are gone, but there might be backup comin'. An' it ain't that far to Mos Anek. I know Tatooine's inhospitable, but you should be healed up good enough to make it there safely."

Her head whipped back and forth, lekku swaying behind her. "I can't," she said again, the tightness in her throat pinching each word. "I'd rather die here. Please – _please _don't send me to Mos Anek!"

"Okay – shh, it's going to be okay…" He took her hand again, twining his fingers with hers. "We'll figure somethin' else out. I promise."

Still trembling faintly, she blinked up at him, searching his expression for any hint of a trap. But the soft kindness in his gaze was too much, and with a choked sob, she buried her face in the side of his neck, weeping silently.

He sat there without moving for the space of a few seconds. Then, letting out an uncertain breath, he untangled his hand from hers and reached up, gently brushing his fingers along the smooth, ruddy skin of her arm. "It's going to be all right. You're safe now." He wasn't sure why she was so terrified, but after all, it didn't much matter.

Because whoever or whatever it was would never, ever hurt her again.

* * *

It took a few minutes, but eventually the woman in Corso's arms relaxed against him. "Hey," he murmured again. "You okay?"

She let out a snuffly-sounding laugh. "I am." A hesitant smile pulled at her lips when she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I think I kind of … leaked onto you."

He tilted his head forward, bumping her forehead with his. "Don't worry about it. It's kind of hard to stay flower-fresh on this planet anyhow." He grinned back at her, shifting up to one knee. "The captain and I are planning to head back to a Republic base. Would that be all right?"

Still smiling up at him, she nodded wordlessly.

_Thank goodness for small favors, _Corso thought to himself. He got up, then offered her his hands and tried to avoid looking down at her admittedly well-formed figure as she stood also. "Well then, seein' as we'll be travelin' together, I figure I best introduce myself. M'name's Corso Riggs, and…. uh… yeah." He let go of her hands, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.

Just then a sharp voice interrupted them. "Hey in there! Get a move on – we're 'bout to have company!"

Corso looked back at the twi'lek. "C'mon, then. The Republic outpost is a bit farther than Mos Anek, so we better get going while we can. I'm not overfond of Imperials myself." He breathed a sigh of relief as she headed out of the cargo hold into the blinding sunlight.

Vacy was there waiting for them, seated astride the speeder. Noticing that the lethan stayed close to Corso rather than heading up the road to Anek, the captain frowned a bit. "Uh, Riggs? What gives?"

"Mos Anek isn't gonna work, Captain. She needs to get back to Varada too. I figure she can ride with you an' I'll walk. Catch up to you in a bit. It ain't far."

The way he put it made it seem quite reasonable, but the smuggler frowned. After a moment's thought, she shook her head, cut the power to the vehicle, and hopped down. "Better if the two of you take the speeder and I walk," she said firmly.

Corso scowled. "Not a chance. I ain't just leavin' you to wander 'round in the middle of the desert without any backup!"

One dark brow arched. "Oh, what, and you think _she's _gonna help keep me safe?" Vacy scoffed. "I'll keep stealthed. Something happens, I'll be better off by myself than if I've gotta worry about somebody else as well anyhow. You're the better pick for a bodyguard, an' we both know it." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just quit gunnin' the thrusters. Specially around here – kicks up even more sand that way, an' I'm not lookin' forward to buyin' any more replacement parts from a jawa than I absolutely have to."

Still frowning, he stepped toward her. "I still don't like it," he said. "How about-"

She cut him off before he could continue. "Well, fortunately, I ain't asking you to like it. _However_, I will give you my word that I'll head straight back to Varada, and I promise I'll keep well away from anything that looks even the slightest bit animate. Won't even go pickin' around scrap, okay?"

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but with a sigh, stepped up onto the speeder and powered up the repulsors. "I don't recollect a cantina at the outpost. Where should I wait for ya?" he asked.

Vacy shook her head as she helped the twi'lek carefully situate herself upon the small bit of seat that was left. "Eh, I dunno that you need to. Just go on to Anchorhead; I'll see you back at the ship." She let go and stepped back, and with a gasp, the lethan wrapped her arms around Corso tightly.

"Whups! You all right there, ma'am?" he asked with a chuckle, the very picture of a properly solicitous gentleman.

At her responding laugh, Vacy rolled her eyes and activated her stealth belt. "Riggs, you might wanna scoot up a bit. It'd be a shame if you dumped her in the sand."

Corso shifted forward as much as he could without falling off the front of the seat. He looked over his shoulder and grinned, his smile bright against his tan skin. "Full speed ahead!" And with a rev of the thrusters that kicked sand up everywhere, they sped off.

Spitting grit out of her mouth as best she could, Vacy sighed. "I really, _really _hate Tatooine."


	22. A Much More Appropriate Conclusion

**Chapter 22 – A Much More Appropriate Conclusion**

[AN – So remember how Corso imagined that a hero's reward should include a passionate kiss and a declaration of love? … Yeah.]

* * *

With the repulsors still running, Corso waited until he felt the bobble that meant the twi'lek had stepped to the ground. Looking over his shoulder to double-check, he smiled at her, then cut the engines and stepped down as well. "Well, here we are." He took his commlink and held it out to her.

She took it, but her brows pulled together uncertainly. "Um… thank you?"

Shrugging, he grinned a bit. "Well I figure they weren't too keen on you keeping yours. This way you can get in touch with anyone who might be worried about you."

Her eyes widened just a touch, and she nodded slowly, but she said nothing as she stared at the device in her hand.

Corso's smile faded. "Oh," he said softly. Silence stretched well past the border of 'awkward' and almost to the point of 'painful' before he finally blurted out, "My family… they were killed. I was on my own for a while. So I know it isn't easy." He looked down at the tops of his boots. "But… we can get you set up with a place to stay, maybe a job around here…" Noticing that she seemed to be withdrawing more and more, he paused.

Finally she looked up, her eyes bright. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her voice thick. "What do you want?"

He nodded over toward the guardhouse. "C'mon – let's step inside for a few minutes and get things figured out," he said. "We can sit down, and we'll be out of the sun." He headed in that direction with her following behind. After a few moments' conversation with one of the guards, they stepped inside. Corso sat down on one of the benches and gestured at another one. "Might as well get comfortable."

The lethan sat down slowly, knees together, feet tucked underneath the bench, shoulders hunched forward.

He sat there in silence for awhile, and then let out a sigh. "It seems like you could use some help. So – if I _can_help, I'm gonna. Ain't any more to it than that." He shrugged, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. "So… you got a name, or do I just call you ma'am?"

"Ahl'kyla," she said, her voice barely over a whisper.

"Yeeeah. I hope you'll forgive me if I say that wrong," he replied. When she looked up again and smiled tentatively, he found himself smiling back at her even without meaning to. "See? It's gonna be all right. Now, you need a safe place to go, right? You okay with stayin' around here for a bit?"

She nodded slowly. "You can call me Kyla. But I – I have no money."

Corso shook his head. "Don't worry about that just yet. We'll get you set up with a job, too, so's you can get started. Eventually, once you save up some money, you can go anywhere y'like. What kinda skills you got?"

For the first time, he saw the faintest glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I – I can repair things," she said. "Armor. And… and weapons. Vehicles, some, but I'm not as good at that."

"Really?!" He found himself smiling brilliantly. "Me too! Well, weapons, anyhow. I ain't as good with other stuff. Got this jetpack from a bounty hunter an' it's been givin' me no end of…" With a laugh, he shook his head, his cheeks warm. "Sorry, I'm runnin' my mouth. C'mon, let's get you set up with a place of your own. How's that sound?"

And this time, her smile absolutely transformed her face. "Just lovely," she said, standing to follow him out.

* * *

After talking with some of the soldiers who were coming and going from the outpost, Corso was able to get the names of a few nearby homesteaders who took in tenants from time to time. They got rough coordinates and headed out on the speeder.

Leaving the vehicle at the edge of the property, they approached on foot. Corso glanced over at Kyla as they stepped up onto the doorstep. "Missus Skidder seems respectable enough, based on what Lieutenant Tzan said. But if you feel the least bit uncomfortable about staying here, let me know and we'll head on. All right?"

She nodded, and he knocked on the door.

It wasn't long before the door swung open and a tiny woman with cloud-white hair pulled into a long braid peered up at them, her eyes sharp and bright in her dark, weathered face. "Aye? Wotcher want?"

Corso ducked his head respectfully. "Ma'am, we're the ones that contacted you a bit ago. You said you still have a room available? This young lady's the sister of a good friend of mine." He took a shaky breath and tried his best smile. "He's been called into action, and I told him I'd make sure and find her a good place."

Her eyes narrowed, her lips tightening into a thin line. "Sonny," she said a moment later. "Yer a rotten liar." With a snort, she looked up at Kyla instead. "But you seem like a right nice girl, so I s'pose you'll do all right. C'mon in." She held the door for them, snipping at Corso in particular to be sure not to track in any sand in them big clunky boots of his, she'd just finished sweepin' out the floors.

They followed her through the house and up the stairs, while she told them all about what she expected of her guests and what was offered along with the room. She pulled out a metal rod that had some odd knobs and spikes at the end, slid it into a hole in the door and twisted, and then pushed the door open.

Corso let Kyla walk in first, and then turned to Missus Skidder. "We'll be down in a few minutes. Thank you, ma'am."

She snorted rather ungraciously, clearly still not fond of such an untrustworthy fellow, but shuffled off down the hallway and down the stairs.

He turned to Kyla with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Nearly mucked everything up but good just then." He leaned against the doorframe, watching her meander slowly around the room. "So… I don't mean to pry, but in order to get you set up safe… If you ain't got a place, and you ain't got family… sounds like maybe you're on the run from somebody?"

For a long while she just stood there, staring at the cabinet that was placed in the far corner of the room. "I learned about fixing things from an engineer in Mos Anek." She fell silent again, her hands clenched into tight fists. "He… he bought me, when I was very young."

Corso stepped toward her, then paused. _There's nothing I can do – or say – that will make any of it better._ "I'm sorry." _Well, that was stupid. _He took a slow breath. "But it doesn't have to stay that way. If – if you want, I might be able to see about, uh… revising your identity."

Slowly, she turned to face him again. "So no one could make me go back?"

He shook his head. "Not ever," he said, trying to hold back the anger in his voice. She stood there, staring at him silently for several seconds. When he saw her lower lip trembling, he walked over to her. "I'm sorry I can't do more," he whispered.

As the tears brimmed over and streamed down her face, she smiled up at him. "You've done more than I ever dreamed," she replied softly.

And when she pressed against him and kissed him deeply, he could taste the salt on her lips.


	23. Topsy-Turvy

**Chapter 23 – Topsy Turvy**

[AN: "Teacup" is the nickname Vacy's given to Risha. On account of she's such a dainty, delicate thing, don'cha know.]

* * *

Vacy trudged up the ramp to the _Wonder_. The hike back to the outpost had been excruciating, and the trip from the outpost back to Anchorhead hadn't been a lot better. The taxi rates were extortionate – and they weren't even covered! Granted, the thing went fast enough that it picked up a good breeze, but the hot, dry air had chapped at her skin. She wasn't sure if the crustiness she felt was sand or dried sweat, but either way, it was miserable.

"I hate Tatooine. I hate this stupid planet," she said out loud. She'd thought it to herself quite a few times on the ride to Anchorhead, but hadn't wanted to open her mouth and risk choking on sand. Besides, it wasn't like the taxi droid would have had anything useful to contribute.

"Welcome home, master. Oh – goodness! You look positively dreadful," came the concerned tones of the ship's protocol droid.

Her eyes narrowed as she passed it. She tried to stay away from its proximity sensors as much as possible; for some reason it seemed to think that any being who wandered past wanted to converse with it. "Thank you for that observation, C2. Ever so helpful," she grumbled in reply as she made her way up the hall. She frowned when she looked in the lounge and saw no one… but then Corso probably knew it would take her a while longer to get back, and he'd been a bit banged up. He might've stopped by the medbay to bandage the worst of it and then headed to his bunk to rest a bit.

She ducked her head into the cargo hold. "Hey, Teacup," she called over to Risha. "You seen Riggs?"

The curvy mechanic looked over her shoulder at the spacer, shrugging carelessly. "Last I was aware, he was following you around like he always does. What, dare I hope you left him behind?" she asked with a smirk.

Vacy scowled. "Not intentionally. We split up, and he had the speeder, so I kind of figured he'd be back already."

Risha narrowed her eyes, peering at Vacy suspiciously. "You let him have the speeder," she echoed in disbelief.

"Well – yeah. I mean, he always revs the engines until they whine, which drives me nuts, but I figure I'm not the one riding with him, so I'll just try not to think about it. But he should've been here by now." She frowned softly.

The human's full lips pulled back into a slow, impish smile. "Well, well," she replied with a chuckle. "So that's your story. Here I thought the reason you always drove was so you could sit in his lap and wiggle up against him."

"Oh, please." Vacy rolled her eyes. "He wishes."

Leaning back against her console (but careful not to touch any of the controls) Risha smirked. "I just bet he does," she murmured under her breath. But when she noted the sudden glare that earned her from the captain, she shrugged again. "So if you weren't on the speeder with him, who was?"

The smuggler looked down at her thumbnail, frowning a bit. It was going to take weeks for her cuticles to heal, given that she just couldn't countenance using kolto to speed it up. _Stupid planet._ "Oh, just one of the slaves we freed. Some twi'lek. I dunno, she was all upset and stuff, might've been injured. She just kind of gave me these big eyes like she had no clue what I was saying, but Riggs shows up and hey, insta-buddies. Felt like a right cucker saying 'tough shizz, we're heading out, you're stuck here,' and I figured she'd be better off with him than with me."

Risha folded her arms across her chest and just stared at the spacer until the Mirialan looked up at her again. "Seriously, boss? Seriously?"

With a chuff of frustration, Vacy put both hands on her hips. "What?" she snapped back.

"Riggs rescues a girl – excuse me, I bet he called her a 'lady,' didn't he? – from slavers, they head off together, _alone_, and you're wondering why he didn't get back before you?" She shook her head incredulously. "There is no way you're actually that dense."

"Oh," she said, the annoyance quietly evaporating. "I – no… that makes sense." She frowned, nodding slowly. "I just… it didn't…" She shook her head, as though to clear it. "Spose I'll head back in and let the sheriff know, then. Um. If he gets back, let him know I'm all right. I mean. If he asks." She turned and slowly made her way back down the hall.

Risha peered after her. "Sure thing, boss," she murmured thoughtfully.

* * *

As the spacer shuffled through the enormous terminal again, memories swirled around her. She didn't even notice the dirty looks she got from those she unthinkingly brushed past.

_Corso reached up with his other hand, and brushed the tips of his fingers along the curve of her jaw. "Nothin's changed for me, Captain," he whispered in reply. "I still want you, now an' always."_

_Seems like 'always' is a lot briefer than I'd thought it'd be_, she reflected bitterly. Looking around, she let out a sigh, then pressed the lift commands that would take her to the main floor of the spaceport.

It hadn't been that long since Nar Shaddaa. Was it really that easy to forget about her? Not that it mattered, really. It just kind of stung the pride. That was all. Really.

Vacy exited the lift, looked around, and then made her way toward the main exit. Besides all that, it was good for him to find someone else. Someone more suited to him, to who he was and what he wanted out of life. Hadn't she been telling him that since they'd first met? Repeatedly? _She closed her eyes, her shoulders drooping. "Ah, blast it, Riggs… you're such a good man. And some day, you're going to make some lady real happy." She looked at him once more, smiling sadly. "I hope she knows how fortunate she is." And with that, she turned, heading off the bridge._

But he caught her by the elbow, turning her toward him. His eyes showed his hurt and confusion. "Vacy - how can you kiss me like you did not two minutes ago, and then go an' act like there's nothing between us?"

Her treacherous heart fluttered, and Vacy reached down with her mind and crushed the sensation flat. She lifted one shoulder casually. Carelessly. "I told you not to fall for me. I'm sorry, Farm Boy… that's just the kind of girl I am."

[AN - From "Drunken Gunplay"]

She plodded out of the spaceport, squinting into the glare.

"Well hey, there y'are! The great hero!" Sheriff Encott waddled up to her, sweating profusely.

"Yup, that's me," Vacy replied, forcing a tired smile. "I kinda think those slavers are gonna be scrambling for a bit. If there's anyone who could be sent to that warehouse, it wouldn't be too much trouble to round up the last of them."

He nodded, reaching up to clap her on the shoulder. "I'll sure do that. We've even had a few of them prisoners turn up here with a wild story about a lone woman who took on all the Twin Suns. You won't ever hafta buy your own drinks again!"

She looked off toward the cantina, not really listening to the rest of what he said. "Thanks. My ship's in hangar D42. Go on in and talk to Risha, she'll handle the arrangements." With that, she turned and headed down the steps and around the path to the cantina.

It hadn't taken long to get used to pausing upon going inside, to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting. But this time, she noticed a change in the sound as well, and as her vision cleared and focused, she realized that just about everyone in the room was looking her way.

With a muttered curse, she headed up toward the bar and nodded toward the large Nikto, who was already headed her way. "What'll you have?"

Vacy looked up – and up – and up. "Whatever you've got that's strong enough to set me on my ass," she replied with a smirk.

"Not only gorgeous, but classy as well," he chuckled, winking back at her. "First round's on the house." He set a short, thick mug in front of her and poured liquids from several bottles into it.

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then arched a brow. "Why don't you pour one for yourself as well?"

He paused, and a slow smile pulled at his mouth. "Well now I'm not supposed to be drinking while I'm tending bar."

Vacy picked up the mug and drained it at a single go, then thumped the mug down, clenching her teeth to keep from wincing at the burn. She leaned forward a bit, arching her back in invitation. "Oh really. Well how soon do you get off?" she purred. _And if he doesn't take _that_ hint, I've completely lost my touch._

A dark twinkle glimmered in his eyes, and he bent down almost nose-to-nose with her. "I'm not sure… but I think I'd like to find out," he murmured back. Standing again, he glanced around, then lifted a hand to one of the curvaceous young women threading past the tables out in the main seating area. "Liria, cover for me? I've gotta head out for awhile."

Liria glanced at Vacy as she approached. "All right," she said, walking around behind the counter. "But we're square now, Tooke."

Vacy didn't wait for them to finish talking, just made split-second eye contact with the bartender, then turned and headed for the back of the cantina where she'd seen the stairwell to the second floor. When the bartender rounded the corner, she grabbed him by his belt, pulling him against the wall and pressing against him. He started to say something – maybe – she didn't much care, stretching up to slant her mouth against his. His hands were knobby and rough as he yanked her shirt up and reached beneath it, cool against her warm skin, and she sighed in satisfaction, her body moving against his.

"We can – go upstairs – if you want," he murmured between hungry kisses.

She rolled her hips forward, felt his hardness, heard him groan, and it sent an answering throb of desire between her own legs. "Don't care," she breathed, rocking again. What did it matter if she'd be walking out through whispers and catcalls? Wasn't like it was a secret anyway. She parted her lips, tongue flicking out to taste him, stroke him.

_Just make me forget._


	24. Acting on Suspicion

**Chapter 24 – Acting on Suspicion  
**

Vacy reached forward and into the cluster of stars that twirled slowly before her. With a firm pull down and to the side, she enlarged a particular sector, noting the shifting alignments of the suns and their planets. Frowning to herself, she zoomed back out, then gently traced a twisting path with one thoughtful finger. "Ell-tee!" she called over her shoulder.

Without waiting for an answer, she headed to the doorway and opened the channel for the ship's intercom. "Rish, where you at?" she asked before switching it back to receive. Sighing impatiently, she leaned back against the wall, folding her arms across her chest.

There was a burst of static before the reply. "Down here in the engine room, where else? We got a problem or something?"

"No, no, I think I've worked out a new route to Alderaan that'll cut down our time _and_ keep us away from most of the pirate-pull areas. We just need to reconfigure the ship's response to the gravity sensors, have it alter our heading by – ah – point-oh-three degrees GSE, instead of just yankin' us out of hyperspace."

"Captain…" Risha's voice trailed off, and Vacy heard her sigh over the com. "You have to be kidding. That's – it's insane. You can't change safety settings mid-jump, so once we set that response, we're stuck with it for that entire leg of the route."

Vacy rolled her eyes. "So? C'mon. Space is huge. It's not like we're going to run into a planet that wasn't there before."

"No? And what about a space station? Or a fleet of capital ships that's been mobilized for duty – or sent somewhere out-of-the-way for training exercises? Random obstacles aren't common, sure, but if we hit something unexpected, shifting our course at the last second won't keep us from getting vaped."

Grumbling while she listened to Risha's tirade, Vacy downloaded the newly-programmed route to her datapad, along with the relevant information from the starcharts. "Just hold on; I'll be there in a second," she said into the com before heading down the hallway.

Calm as ever, Risha was waiting just outside the archway to the engine room as Vacy strode toward her. She waited for the captain to come to a stop in front of her and let the shorter woman glare at her for a moment before she lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug. "I won't do it, Captain. You can fire me if you like, but I'd like to remind you that you're hauling _my_ cargo, and while you may be able to scrounge up some other jobs, you haven't paid any of us in full, since we're all waiting for a cut of Nok Drayen's treasure – which you don't have a prayer of a chance of getting without my help."

And besides that," the mechanic added, "you're not going to find a tech willing to make those adjustments to the sensors, no matter how hard you look or what you promise to pay. Changing course at that speed would induce catastrophic stress on the ship, not to mention the injuries sustained when we all get smashed into the walls."

It was in the furious silence that followed, as Vacy stood there glaring at Risha with nostrils flared and lips pressed into a thin line, that the airlock hissed sharply and the door swung open. Corso strode in and then abruptly stopped in his tracks, looking back and forth between the two women uncertainly. "Uh. Hey, there…" He cleared his throat, his brows quirking together. "Am I inneruptin'?"

His captain turned to look at him with those blazing eyes, and he gulped, taking a step back. But Vacy shook her head and forced a smile. "No, Riggs," she said tightly. "We're done here." And she turned on her heel and marched back up toward the bridge.

He blinked, and then turned to Risha, who was looking at him with her usual smirk. "What?" he said after another few moments. "What'd I miss?"

Risha just shook her head. "C'mon, Mouse," she said, letting out a long sigh. "You and I need to have a talk."


	25. Icebergs

**Chapter 25 – Icebergs **

* * *

[AN: I'm not really happy with this title, but it does at least allude to the idea that most of what's going on is below the surface. Suggestions welcome! I'd love to change to something I like better! *g*]

* * *

With a long, tired sigh, Vacy sat down heavily in the captain's chair. She knew that Risha was right – overriding the security controls in the way she'd suggested was incredibly risky. And the truth of the matter was that it really wasn't necessary; sure, she might earn some bragging rights, but it wouldn't shorten their trip by all that much.

She reached up and unwrapped the band that kept her dark hair up in the high ponytail she always wore. Her scalp prickled as her hair fell about her shoulders, and she sighed again as she ran her fingers through her loose, wavy hair. She also knew that she had no right to be upset with Corso for making eyes at somebody else. Goodness knew she'd tried six ways from the starport to get him to realize she wasn't the settling-down sort she knew he wanted. In all fairness, she _ought_ to be happy for him. And relieved, she reminded herself.

So why did she feel so disappointed instead?

Even though she'd tried to warn him that if he didn't get over her he'd wind up hurt, she had to admit that the attention had felt kind of nice. She wouldn't have told him, because she didn't want to encourage him when it wasn't going to work out, but it was quite gratifying to have someone think you were absolutely wonderful.

_Am I really that awful a person?_ she wondered. _That I'm so selfish and vain as to throw a fit because he's found someone else, even though I'm not interested in him that way myself? _The guilt that settled low in her chest made it a good bit easier to ignore the slight twinges of uncertainty at the edges of her consciousness.

Besides, that twi'lek – what had she said her name was? Kyla, that was it – she seemed nice as well as pretty. And Corso had gotten back safely (eventually, anyway) so it wasn't like it had been some trap to kidnap him and take him to the Empire where he'd be brainwashed into serving as one of their mindless thugtroopers. Or back to Ord Mantell, turned in for the bounty there. Or to Rogun. Although if Kyla had been one of Rogun's hunters, surely she would have targeted both of them. _Unless that was simply the opening gambit, and there's a far deeper plan at work…_

Vacy stood, running both hands through her hair in frustration. It was simply preposterous; there was really no reason to think that Kyla was a bounty hunter. No capable hunter, no matter how devious, would put herself in such a vulnerable position. She'd had neither weapons nor armor, and furthermore, there was no way she could have known that the two of them would be coming after that group of slaves.

No, the truth was much simpler. Kyla was exactly what she appeared to be – a helpless victim who'd developed a crush on the handsome man who'd rescued her. And of course when he'd gotten them to safety, she'd helped him out of his armor and gently cleaned and tended to his wounds. Maybe even wiped his armor down so it was all shiny again.

She had to remind herself to quit clenching her teeth. _There isn't anything a bit wrong with any of that. Or with … anything else that might have gone on. _And of course, that thought was immediately followed by several mental images of just what might have gone on, each one more athletically challenging than the last.

Folding her arms over her chest, she paced up to the transparisteel port, looking out at the workers in the hangar – some unloading cargo, others scanning for contraband, and still others just milling about. _Honestly, it's silly to imagine that he'd go on mooning after me anyhow. He's a grown man, for goodness' sake. It's unusual enough that – _

"Uh, Boss?"

Risha's voice reminded her that she wasn't alone on the ship, and Vacy pulled on an expression of mild disinterest, looking over her shoulder. "Problem, Teacup?"

The smirk that nearly always graced her full lips broadened a bit. "Oh, not from me," she replied in her typically wry purr. "But Mouse gave me all the details – you know, about your heroic rescue of those helpless captives? It seems like that's the sort of thing that deserves a bit of celebration. Isn't there a cantina out in that little excuse for a port?"

Vacy looked back out the viewport quickly. Hopefully Risha wouldn't notice the warmth that spread across her cheeks. "Yeah, I think so. Not much to speak of."

"Still, it's something. And while the _Wonder_ is a delightful ship – I know I've busted my tail to get the best output possible from the engines we've got, though if you wanted to invest in some upgrades I certainly would not complain one bit – I've got to say that of late, the social aspect has been a bit… strained." One hand went to her hip. "A person might think that there were some problems aboard."

It would have been difficult to miss a hint that direct. Vacy turned around and arched a brow at her mechanic. "And here I thought you said there were no problems."

Risha arched a brow right back at her. "I said there weren't any from me, Captain. So what's the deal?" The tension thickened around them until she added, "Are we heading in to Anchorhead or just moping around here all night?"

_Clearly, she knows more than she's saying. _She watched Risha's features carefully, but soon realized that her own unsettled emotions made it difficult to read anything, not to mention Risha's skill at keeping her expression neutral. "Sounds like a good idea. Better than nothing, like you said," she replied after a bit. "Why don't you round up Corso, and I'll go tell Bowdaar." _Stars only know what I'll end up saying to the Farm Boy if I wind up alone with him. Not a good idea right now._

Risha smirked again, and Vacy again wondered just how much the secretive woman had figured out. But as she turned to go, all she said was, "You're the boss, Boss."


	26. You're Not the Boss of Me

**Chapter 26 – You're Not the Boss of Me  
**

* * *

Vacy had noticed that Bowdaar spent most of his time in the break room, although he never actually seemed to take a break. As usual, rather than lounging on the couch, he was standing attentively beside it. When she walked in, he immediately straightened and set his datapad on the counter. It had been the first item he'd purchased after they'd gotten him a Galactic Trade account, and Vacy didn't think she'd ever seen him without it since then.

"You can relax, Bowdaar," she said with a grin. "We're not in a crisis or anything – at least, I don't think so. But Risha's suggested we head into town and find out what the local entertainment is like. So I figured I'd ask if you wanted to come along."

He hesitated, tensing ever so slightly before dipping his head in reply. "Yes, Captain," he said in a throaty rumble. "It would be a pleasure to accompany you."

But given the pause, she couldn't help wondering if he really meant that, or if he was simply in the habit of agreeing to whatever was asked of him. "You know, it's okay for you to say you'd rather stay here. Or go somewhere else. You don't have to come with us, if you d––"

A short, sharp bark cut her off. "No, Captain, I truly meant that. I am glad that you asked, and I do want to go with you." He chuffed, shaking his head. "I suppose perhaps I am growing too accustomed to my freedom."

Vacy blinked, her brows pulling together. "I don't think I understand."

"I hope that you can forgive me," Bowdaar explained. "I know I am not being very clear, and I apologize for any confusion. But when you present me with a task, or you make a request, I immediately have the urge to refuse you." He continued quickly, before she could protest. "It is not that what you ask is unreasonable or burdensome; quite the contrary. I am glad to have the opportunity to help someone, rather than simply fighting for profit. I realize, rather, that it is _my response_ that is unreasonable. I have the urge to say no…" His series of barks broke off into a soft, mournful howl, and he sighed briefly before going on, his tone more hesitant. "I want to say no… simply because I can."

Vacy blinked again, though this time it wasn't from confusion, but because for some strange reason her eyes were stinging a bit. "It's okay to say no," she replied gently. "I hope you know that."

Chuffing another laugh, Bowdaar nodded. "I do, and I cannot express to you how much I appreciate that. But there is a conflict within me, because while I feel the impulse to refuse, I also recognize that impulse for what it is, and I know that I would regret following it."

With a soft sigh, Vacy shook her head. "If anything, it sounds like you aren't yet accustomed _enough_ to your freedom. You'll know it's over-familiar to you when you go along with somebody's suggestion just 'cuz it's not worth the effort of saying no."

Bowdaar tilted his head as he looked at her thoughtfully. "You do not wish to go tonight?"

That caught her completely off guard, and she found herself blushing. _Crei Manet'lee! Guess it's true what they say, that there's no secrets aboard ships._ She rubbed a hand over her forehead. "Well… kind of like you said. I guess I'm most comfortable 'round here, but that doesn't mean I've got to spend every spare hour up on the bridge. I figure it'll do me some good to have some dirt under my boots for a bit, 'specially if it doesn't involve somebody shootin' at me for once." And maybe there was more to it than that, but the plain truth of the matter was that she wasn't really sure what the plain truth of the matter _was_.

But the wookiee seemed content to accept her response. "I look forward to our time together, Captain," he said politely. And then he surprised her by smiling, just a bit. "Even if it means that I will have to find other opportunities to assert my independence by being contrary."

Vacy found herself smiling back at him. "Do I need to start making some unreasonable requests, so's you can practice?" She put her hands on her hips and did her best to look stern, though she could feel a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Bowdaar! Uh… hop on one foot and twirl around!" She clenched her teeth to hold back the giggles that threatened to burst out. "On the double, mister!"

His eyes sparkled delight as he glared down at her. "No!" he bellowed. But it was when he put his hands on _his_ hips, mimicking her stance, that Vacy lost her composure. And then he went and made matters worse by stamping one foot. "You can't make me!"

Trying to catch a breath between shouts of laughter, Vacy managed to gasp out, "You sound… like… you're three!"

For several moments they both just stood there and laughed. Finally Bowdaar reached up, wiping at his eyes with his furry paws, and Vacy rubbed at her sides. "Owww," she groaned. "My tummy hurts."

The wookiee smiled at her fondly, his eyes still twinkling. "Remember that next time you go up against one of us, Small One. We are fierce opponents, after all," he barked.

Just then, Risha leaned through the doorway. "Uh, Boss? Everything all right?" Corso stood just behind her, looking over her shoulder with an expression equally as puzzled.

Vacy smiled warmly at Bowdaar before looking at the mechanic. "Just fine, Teacup. C'mon, everybody. Let's show these dirt-huggers a good time." And with that, she headed down the main hall of the XS toward the airlock.


	27. Of All the Cantinas on All the Worlds

**Chapter 27 – Of All the Cantinas on All the Worlds**

* * *

The cantina in Anchorhead didn't actually have a door – just a hallway that doubled back on itself to keep out the worst of the blowing sand. It was actually pretty common on Tatooine; Vacy figured it was because it'd require top-notch tech to stand up to the harsh weather, and most folks out on the Rim weren't about to spend that kind of credit on a door. But even though there wasn't anything but an open entryway, Corso stepped aside to let the rest of them head in first.

Although Vacy bit back a grin, Risha wasn't about to let it pass. "What, feeling nervous, Mouse?" He shot her a dirty look, but didn't say anything, and followed on in after Bowdaar.

Risha paused, her brows lifting in surprise. "Well isn't that wonderfully convenient. Captain, unless I'm mistaken, the bartender is our contact – he's the one who can get us in touch with Diago Hixan." And before Vacy could think of a reason to protest (besides the truth, obviously) she found herself following the curvy mechanic up toward the bar.

The nikto looked up and a broad grin added more creases to his craggy features. "Well, well, well. Good to see you. The lovely Risha has far better taste in business partners than I'd realized. She'd originally told me I'd be dealing with a real sleazeball. Glad to see the situation's changed. I'm Tookreek."

Vacy found she couldn't help smiling back. It was always nice to meet someone else who thought poorly of Skavak. Seemed to be quite a few of them around. "Go ahead and get us a round. Ale – local's fine; we'll call it 'being adventurous.' I'm Vacy Fiorst," she replied, hoping her blush wasn't as visible as it felt.

Tookreek took out four mugs and set them out on the bar, then filled them from a large, lumpy jug. "First one's on me, gorgeous. Face like yours… not likely you're ever gonna be buying your own drinks around here."

From behind them, Corso piped up, "Thanks, pal. I've always thought of myself as classically good-looking."

Rolling her eyes, Vacy grinned over her shoulder at Corso. "Well, then, it's an awful shame you don't drink," she said pertly, picking up two of the mugs and taking a long drink from the one in her right hand. She looked back to Tookreek. "How's things around here?"

He shook his head. "Tense."

"Oh?" Vacy's brow creased in concern. She took another drink – might as well enjoy it while she could. "You got problems? We might be able to help out."

Tookreek look past them with a sigh. "Stick around, and you'll see for yourself." He nodded toward a large fellow heading up to the bar, who looked like he'd had his face smashed in one too many times. "Probably won't take long."

At the other end of the bar, the mook leaned in on a small blonde woman wearing a simple dust-brown robe. "Hey, pretty face," he said with a leer. "You don't belong here."

Out of the corner of her eye, Vacy saw Corso's posture tighten up, but she glanced at him and shook her head faintly. So far it wasn't anything more than words, and there was no sense butting in where they weren't needed.

The woman looked up at the large man, her expression relaxed. "I'm not looking for trouble," she replied.

The mook snorted a laugh. "Then you _definitely_ don't belong here," he said through an unpleasant smile.

Tookreek let out another long-suffering sigh. "Can I call it or what?" He folded the towel he'd been carrying and draped it over his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go put away anything breakable."

"I'm just a simple traveler." The woman gestured to the stool beside her. "There's room for both of us here, my friend."

His eyes narrowing, the mook balled his hands into fists. "You're not my friend, got it?"

At that, Vacy took a step forward, as it was clear the woman's gentle-soul tactics weren't having any effect. "Hey, back off, buster. She's not causing you any problems."

Risha tilted her head toward the captain. "Are you sure you want to get involved, boss?" she murmured. "I wouldn't stake a decicred on him being here solo."

The woman smiled somewhat primly at Vacy. "I can handle this," she said, tilting her chin up a bit. She turned back to the man beside her and gazed deeply at him. "You want to leave me alone. You want to stop noticing me."

But the mook just growled at her. "Now you're REALLY pissing me off!" he snarled.

Down at their end of the bar, Vacy ducked her head to hide a laugh. "Damn, even I could've done better than that," she snarked to Risha, who was also giggling.

Flatface looked over his shoulder; several others who appeared to share his grooming habits had just walked in. He smirked again, flexing his knuckles. "Let's show this pretty face what happens to people who piss us off."

Vacy downed the rest of her first drink and set the mug down with a nice resounding _thunk._ "Aw, c'mon!" she hollered down the bar. "If you're spoilin' for a fight that bad, why not pick somebody who'll actually enjoy it?"

She heard a deep chuckle behind her. "I was hopin' you'd say somethin' like that," came Corso's voice.

Vacy lifted a shoulder. "Well, the Jedi can take care of herself." She'd learned long ago not to mess with anybody in a plain brown robe. "Probably," she added, with a bit less certainty. She looked over at the woman, who seemed completely unruffled by the group approaching her. "… Maybe," she added. Although a few of them had noticed Vacy and her group, and had broken off from the others, heading toward them.

Stepping back from the bar, Vacy turned to her crew, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Still. Ain't any reason for us to miss out on the fun." She looked at Corso sternly. "No weapons unless they draw first."

His eyes widened at the not-quite-accusation. "Course not, Captain!" he protested. "Wouldn't be sportin' of me."

She felt a rather large presence behind her and turned around again to find herself face-to-chest with one of Flatface's goon buddies. "You've got a big mouth," he sneered, looming into her space.

Vacy set her other mug down and took a step toward him – even though it had to be a small step, since they were already quite close and she wasn't exactly keen on embracing someone with his particular scent. "Oh yeah? What's it to ya?" she retorted, chin thrust forward, eyes alight.

There was a particular order that these sorts of things followed, a tradition that, despite his strong odor, the mook seemed to respect as well. His mouth curled into a smug grin, and he reached up, shoving her backward. "I'm gonna enjoy—"

But discovering just it was that he would enjoy would have to wait, for he was abruptly cut off by an armored fist implanted in his cheek. "Real men treat ladies with respect, asswipe!" hollered a furious and no-longer-restrained Corso Riggs.

_Well, so much for tradition._ Vacy grinned right back at the howling mook. "They also watch their peripherals," she added, bringing her knee up sharply.

His howl twisted into a keening whimper about three octaves higher than it had been as he dropped to the floor.

Corso had already moved to the fellow next in line. "There's more where that came from!"

* * *

Holding the drink that Vacy had set down as well as her own, Risha stepped gracefully away from the chaos, taking a stool at the very end of the bar. She looked up at Bowdaar, who was doing an impressive imitation of a furry tree as he leaned against the wall. "Not going to join in the fun?" she asked dryly.

He lifted a shoulder casually. _"It does not seem that my interference is needed,"_ he replied in a soft rumble.

Just then, Corso tumbled over toward them, crashing through one of the chairs. He jumped right up to his feet, eyes flashing. "Oh yeah?! You ain't shed of me that easy!" he shouted as he charged back in.

The enormous wookiee let out an enormous sigh. _"And it would be _such_ a shame to take away any of their fun."_

Leaning back, Risha lifted her mug and took a long drink to hide her grin.


	28. Pass the Popcorn

**Chapter 28 – Pass the Popcorn**

* * *

[Author's Note: I want to dedicate this chapter to Nerica, without whose support and encouragement it would have taken easily another week to finish. If you haven't already done so, check out the adventures of her smuggler, Captain Liling!]

* * *

_You'd think they had known each other all their lives,_ Risha reflected as she watched Vacy and Corso taking on the gang. A fair bit of the crowd had cleared out, though there were still quite a few hangers-on at the edges of the room, watching the commotion. There was a rodian who'd been making his way around the edge of the room, and Risha was pretty sure he'd staked odds and was taking bets on the fight.

Corso had the size and build of a more formidable opponent – his right cross was particularly notable – but while Vacy might not be able to match him in strength, she more than made up for it in sheer viciousness. Risha winced when she saw the mirialan get one of the mooks by the pinkie and then spin him into a hammerlock and yank. The snap wasn't loud, but the shriek of agony that immediately followed certainly was.

The blonde woman further down seemed to be a capable fighter as well. She moved with unnerving speed and grace, making even Vacy and Corso seem clumsy by comparison. As she lifted effortlessly into a spinning kick that connected solidly with one goon's jaw, her robe flowed behind her, and Risha noticed the dull gleam of a lightsaber hilt hanging from the woman's belt.

The local ale that Vacy had chosen was strong in more ways than one. Risha made a face as she drained the last from her mug, then looked up at Bowdaar. "You want this one?"

But the wookiee shook his head. _"I prefer to keep my head at least somewhat clear. What I have already had is quite sufficient."_

Risha lifted a shoulder and picked up the final mug of ale. "Suit yourself," she replied, setting her jaw and taking a long swallow. She didn't so much as flinch when one of the nikto thugs stumbled over toward her, nor when he crashed through a chair to land at her feet. However, when Bowdaar leaned over, grabbed the thug by his belt, and flung him across the room to crash into a corner booth and slump upside-down in one of the seats, she allowed herself a fraction of a smile. "Nice trajectory," she said with an appreciative nod.

Bowdaar lifted his shoulders. "_I do the best I can with what I have," _he explained._ "Had we been outside, it would be interesting to see whether I could land one on a rooftop."_

"And here I thought you were against violence," she chuckled softly.

The wookiee chuffed. _"It would not be violence exactly."_ At Risha's arched brow, he shook his head. _"Simply a test of strength and agility." _

Risha rolled her eyes, grinning fully at that. "Right, just out of personal curiosity, that's all."

Bowdaar looked back at her, his own expression placid. _"Of course." _

Another of the thugs was shoved over toward them. Noticing Risha, he ran a hand over his craggy jaw. However, before he could attempt anything suave, he heard a low, dangerous rumble from behind him. Turning slowly around, he looked up… and up… and up… right at the bared fangs of an enormous wookiee. He had just enough time to gurgle something unintelligible before his knees wobbled and he dropped to the floor in a faint.

Gesturing to the unconscious would-be assailant, Bowdaar rumbled contentedly. _"There, you see? Violence is often less necessary than most people believe."_

The mooks were trying to fight at least a little bit smarter by this point. One of them had gotten Corso focused on him so that the others could concentrate on taking Vacy out of the fight. She wriggled and squirmed, but with two of them keeping her pinned against the bar, another pair had no difficulty pounding her face in. It would have been an excellent plan, except that she did finally yelp in pain when one of them split her lip open. That drew Corso's attention, and when he saw the four of them teamed up on her his eyes narrowed and his whole body tensed for a fraction of a second.

Risha blinked in surprise. The hardened mercenary she saw before her was nothing like the bashful, easygoing farm boy she thought she'd known so well. She crossed her ankles delicately and leaned forward a bit, watching with renewed interest.

Corso reached up, grabbed his attacker by the chin, and smashed his head into the bar a good half-dozen times. By the second smash, the mook had quit fighting and was flailing instead; by the sixth, he was limp as a greasy dishrag. When Corso let him go he tumbled to the floor without so much as a whimper.

With a muted snarl, Corso turned to the nikto who had Vacy by one arm. He reached up, fingers digging underneath the collar of the man's jacket, and one strong yank pulled him away from the smuggler. "Now, see, that's just unmannerly," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

As soon as she had the room to move, Vacy used it. She grabbed the arm of the mook on her other side and just as one of the ones in front of her was about to punch her again, she dropped to the floor, yanking hard. They were all much larger than her, so the one she had by the arm went over her head without too much trouble (well, for her, anyway). The one who'd been in front of her ended up smashing his fist into the bar and howling in rage and pain.

Cursing as he yanked his injured hand back, he reached down with his other hand and pulled out a blaster pistol.

Risha leaned forward a bit more, frowning a touch. Vacy was on the floor, grappling the fellow she'd taken down, and chances were she couldn't see what was going on. Corso was fighting two of them and seemed pretty focused as well. Sighing in frustration, she took a breath, downed the rest of the ale and somehow managed not to shudder at the thick bitterness of it. She walked over to the gunman as he aimed, and without so much as waiting for him to turn around, she lifted her mug and slammed it against the back of his head. His chin jerked forward and he swayed, and then crumpled to the floor.

When she looked up, Risha noticed that both Vacy and Corso were staring openly at her. "What?" she said, tilting her nose up ever so slightly. "I was bored."

"That's what I love about you, Teacup," Vacy said. She stood, groaning a little. "You keep things interesting." She laughed, but abruptly stopped and looked at the mug Risha was still holding. "Hey. Wait a minute – that was _my_ drink!"

Corso draped an arm around Vacy's shoulders. "Actually, Captain, that was s'posta be _my_ drink, if you recall." He grinned down at her. "Serves ya right, I say."

She looked up at him, brows pulled together, lower lip sticking out in the most adorable pout she could manage. "Whose side are you on anyway, Riggs?"

His grin faded instantly and he let go of her shoulders. "Oo, ouch," he said softly, opening a pouch at his hip. "Here, Vee, I've got somethin' for that cut. Picked it up on my way back to the ship… here." He pulled his gloves off and dropped them, then carefully twisted the cap off of a small tube and squeezed a dab of bluey-green gel onto the tip of one finger. "It might sting a bit, but just at first, okay?"

"All right," she whispered back. Her gaze locked with his as he reached out and gently brushed the gel against her lips.

"There," he said. He didn't move away, though. "That feel any better?"

Vacy nodded. "Yeah," she replied, and for some reason her voice was a little hoarse. "Thanks. That helps."

"Are the two of you finished playing doctor?" Risha interjected wryly, folding her arms. "I'd like to remind you that we actually have a job to do here."

Clearing her throat, Vacy stepped away from Corso, her cheeks rather dark. "As I recall," she retorted, "it was _your_ idea to get off the ship and have a bit of fun."

Risha's lips pulled up into a smirk and she very obviously glanced from Vacy to Corso and then back. "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind." As the smuggler began to sputter her objections, Risha added ever-so-innocently, "After all, violence is often less necessary than most people believe."


	29. Decency and Decadence

**Chapter 29 – Decency and Decadence**

* * *

[Author's Note: It seems I can't resist a bit of Austenish alliteration. This chapter flowed without too much difficulty (thank you Eleneri for the nudging!) and I'm hoping that without the spectre of combat hovering over my shoulder, I'll be able to update more frequently. But who knows? As always, I love reviews! ^.^

* * *

Risha grinned up at Bowdaar, but agreement came from a different direction. "You're quite right," said the blonde woman who approached them. "I wish this hadn't ended in violence, but it was brave of you to intervene."

Turning toward the woman as she joined them, Vacy straightened up a bit and her scowl eased into guarded curiosity. "Well… yeah," she replied, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. "I mean, we're heroes. They were obviously out of their league."

The Jedi bowed her head, accepting the statement without voicing agreement this time. "I appreciate it all the same. My name is Nariel Pridence. I'm looking for Vaverone Zare, an agent of evil and servant of the Sith Empire!" As she spoke, her placid tone became more and more fervent and her eyes snapped. She hesitated, and when she continued, her tone was calm once more. "Have you seen her?"

Vacy put her hands on her hips, looking at Nariel with an expression of incredulity. "Have you heard _yourself?_" She shook her head, chuckling. "You Jedi might know some crazy juju, but your interpersonal skills are seriously lacking."

Corso cleared his throat and frowned at the captain a bit, and when she glanced at him, he shook his head ever so slightly.

With a sigh of resignation, Vacy turned back to Nariel. "Vaverone Zare? Uhhh… Don't think I've heard of her. Why, should I?" A bit of a twinkle returned to her eyes. "Does she owe me money?"

The Jedi was silent for a moment, her mouth pulled into a thin pucker of disapproval. But it didn't take long for her to force a prim smile. "I'm not sure we mean the same person; Zare is a being of vast darkness and a grave threat to the galaxy. I hear she's taken an interest in the local underworld, so I came to observe these criminals and gain information."

"Seriously?" Vacy scoffed. "What in blazes does a powerful Sith care about gangs on this east-buttcrack planet? Are you sure you're not supposed to be on Coruscant or Alderaan or somewhere else that everybody talks funny?" She shook her head, grinning broadly. "You ought to leave the shady dealing to folks that know how to do it right." And when she looked over her shoulder at her crew, she saw the gleam of pride in their eyes.

Nariel, however, merely sniffed. "Thank you, but I cannot put you in harm's way. I sense you're destined for greater things than consorting with common criminals."

But while it might technically have been able to pass for a compliment, her patronizing smile made Vacy grind her teeth. She folded her arms, glaring at the Jedi. "Lady, I only consort with the most _uncommon_ of criminals."

That seemed to take some of the puffery out of the Jedi, and she took a hesitant step back. "Yes, well, I – I must continue my search for Vaverone Zare." She dipped her head again, well-mannered despite her obvious discomfort. "May the Force be with you." And with that, she turned and left, attempting to maintain what little of her dignity remained.

Risha chuckled softly as they watched the Jedi walk stiffly away. "I've heard that most Jedi have a stick up their rear end, but I think Her Ladyship there has got a whole fence post shoved… sorry, Mouse…" Risha grinned, looking not the least bit ashamed. "Forgot about your delicate sensibilities."

"I'm not _delicate,_" Corso grumbled, scowling down at his toes. "Way you talk, anybody'd think the captain oughta invest in smelling salts."

Sighing, Risha walked over to Corso and patted him on the shoulder. "Aw, no, don't take it like that… we all know you're a big strong fellow. Right, Boss?"

Vacy peered at Risha suspiciously. "… Sure," she said, sounding anything but.

"In fact," continued Risha, without even pausing to listen to what Vacy's reply actually was, "there's a lovely young thing who just walked in and she certainly seems to have noticed what a big strong fellow you are."

"What?" gulped Corso.

"_What?"_ growled Bowdaar.

"What?!" gasped Vacy.

Three heads turned sharply to look in the direction Risha had indicated, and sure enough, there was a curvaceous, dusky-skinned woman standing near the entrance, looking about somewhat uncertainly. She was wearing enough to be decent, but not nearly enough to be prudent. And it seemed that they weren't the only ones who'd noticed her.

"Looks like she could use some gentlemanly assistance," mused Risha. And without warning, she gave Corso a friendly shove that sent him stumbling in that direction.

"Well – I – uh – Captain?" Corso stammered, but at an abrupt, split-second glare from Risha, his tone changed. He straightened, and nodded briefly. "Oh! Right. Ah. Of course. I'll… catch up to you later."

A mischievous smile blossomed on the mechanic's face. "Sure thing, Mouse. We'll just be talking to Tookreek anyway. Awfully boring. You take your time." And she sauntered back over to the bartender without so much as a glance at her stunned crewmates.


	30. Shuffle Up and Deal

**Chapter 30 – Shuffle Up and Deal**

* * *

[Author's note: I can't thank Nerica enough for listening to me whine about how I can't come up with ideas! Vacy needs to be a bit more careful about hiding her feelings, because Risha isn't the only one who's starting to figure things out...]

* * *

The nikto was shaking his head. "I hate fights," he grumbled as Risha leaned against the bar. "They run off to get patched up and leave the mess behind. And who do you think has to clean it up?"

Vacy had her game face on again. "Poor Tookie," she cooed, hopping up onto a barstool. "Well, that's why you make the big credits!"

Tookreek snorted derisively. "We're under attack by some kinda militia group on top of this. Last week they attacked our warehouse. Killed everyone, and took the ciphered holocom we need to contact Diago Hixan."

Sighing, Vacy put a hand to her forehead. "Botheration. They couldn't've waited one lousy week? Ugh."

But Tookreek just shook his head. "I was gonna send those goons to get it but … I don't think they're gonna be on friendly terms with me for awhile." He looked to Risha and shrugged. "You want that navcomputer you came for? Get me that com."

As the bartender walked over toward another customer, Vacy scrunched her face in frustration, massaging the furrow between her eyebrows. "I know I said we'd come in here and relax a bit, but I kind of don't want to lose any more time on that lead than we already have." Frowning in thought, she bit down on her lower lip out of habit, then winced as her lip split open again. She turned, looking over her shoulder at where Corso was sitting with the girl, the two of them leaning close and laughing together.

Risha reached over and snapped her fingers in front of Vacy's wistful, uncertain expression. "Uh-uh. No way, boss. If you need backup, you take the big guy along with you. I might tease Mouse quite a bit, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be mean enough to get in his way?"

Vacy blinked and straightened up. "What? No, I mean, I was just trying to figure out whether I should wait until later!" She forced a grin and shrugged a bit, nodding her head in Corso's direction. "Never thought we'd see that, y'know?" With a chuckle, she mocked wiping at her eyes. "Looks like our farm boy is finally becoming a real spacer."

A devilish grin pulled at Risha's mouth. "Oh, I don't think he's quite there yet," she murmured, laughing as well. "But I'd be surprised if he didn't get his blaster polished tonight, if you know what I mean."

Vacy's already-tight expression froze completely for just a split second. Then she rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Rish! I don't need to think about the details." She turned quickly to Bowdaar. "Well, how about it? I can probably take on a bunch of bandits myself, but I wouldn't mind having some help. You mind coming along?"

The wookiee nodded slowly. "_I would be glad to help you,"_ he rumbled.

So after a brief farewell, Risha watched her crewmates head out of the cantina. And she was somewhat impressed that neither of them looked back – not even once.

* * *

They walked through the sweltering heat in heavy silence. Vacy silently grumbled to herself that it was awfully inconvenient of Corso to decide to begin his foolishness NOW. Couldn't he have waited until they were someplace less uncomfortable?

She kicked at a particularly annoying mound of sand, which exploded in a feathery puff onto her boot. Or, heck, even just until they'd gotten the treasure and she could actually afford a bigger speeder!

Beside her, Bowdaar chuffed. _"You seem troubled."_

Guilt stabbed at her for her selfishness. It wasn't really fair to inflict her mood on Bowdaar when he was coming along to help out. She took a breath and let out a long sigh. "Well, I don't like Tatooine. It's hot and stuffy and the glare makes my head ache."

When the wookiee simply continued to walk beside her silently rather than replying, she lifted her shoulders as though in protest. "I'm sorry. There's not really any point in complaining about it, you know? Not like what I think is gonna change anything. Might as well just shut up an' accept it."

He rumbled somewhat thoughtfully. _"Do you believe your feelings do not matter, Small One?"_

Vacy was about to bite her lip, then thought better of it. "Well – no – that isn't quite what I meant. More that if it's not gonna change anything, why bother complaining? Just a waste of breath – and it can't be much fun for you to put up with either," she added with a wry grin.

His expression unchanged, he looked down at her with those large dark eyes that were so hard for her to read and huffed a little. _"What makes you so certain there is nothing that can be done?"_

That caught her off guard, and she frowned, pressing her lips firmly against each other as she pondered his question. "I – well – it's not something I can control," she finally replied, her voice quiet and faintly sad. "It's not up to me. I just… I just have to accept it."

She stumbled a bit when he clapped her on the shoulder, and looked up to see him chuckling. _"Perhaps you cannot change the situation, but you always have a choice in how you respond to it. What you do, how you act? That is always something you can control."_

Peering at him, she shook her head. "But how I act … I mean … I can't see anything that I could do that would make things any better."

He gestured to a narrow alleyway. Despite the glare of the suns, the height of the buildings on either side made the path between them shaded. _"If we continue our search through there rather than along the main road, it should provide some relief."_

Vacy blinked in confusion. "Wait. What?"

Bowdaar nodded toward the alley again. _"It may not be comfortable, exactly, but it's likely to be more so than out here in the direct sun."_

"Oh." Vacy blinked again, and started making her way in that direction. "Right. Of course. I just … sorry. Yeah. That makes sense."

Chuckling quietly, Bowdaar followed her_. "There is always a choice, Small One. Do not forget that."_

* * *

[Author's Note: Ahh, subtext. How I love you. Stay tuned, readers! :D]


	31. An Unexpected Trump Card

**Chapter 31 – An Unexpected Trump Card**

* * *

[Author's Note: My deepest apologies to Mr. Morgenstern and Mr. Goldman; I mean no disrespect to their work or to the culture of the great countries to which I allude in this story. Their historical figures are heroes of legend and are always spoken of with reverence. Further, as I am given to understand that the lawyers who represent the estate of Mr. Morgenstern are quite vigilant about protecting the integrity of his literary contributions, I would like to emphasize that allusion, as a literary device, falls under Fair Use, and as such is protected under the United States Copyright Act of 1979 and the correlating statutes of international copyright law.

In other words, "nyah nyah nyah."]

* * *

The silence that hung between them was more comfortable as they headed through the slightly-less-oppressive heat of the alley. Vacy paused to take out her datapad and thumb through a map of Anchorhead as they walked along. "Looks like the warehouse is just up ahead… it'll be around a corner on our right, past a bit of a wiggle-waggle."

Bowdaar barked a laugh. _"Is that a technical term?"_

She rolled her eyes as she looked up, but she couldn't quite hold back a grin. "Academic jargon. I wouldn't expect the common folk to understand," she said, tilting her nose up.

When they rounded the last corner, they noticed a crowd down by their destination. As they approached, it became clear that they were quite well-armed and armored, and did not seem to be particularly cheerful and talkative, even among themselves.

"Well, pu," said Vacy. Then she sort of narrowed her eyes, grinning ever so slightly. "Although – hold on – I've got an idea."

They ducked into the cover of a doorway and Vacy started rummaging through her Darmas-bag. "Aha!" she cried a moment later, pulling out a bottle of clear, pale-green liquid. "Here. Work this into your fur," she said, unscrewing the cap and handing the bottle to Bowdaar. "Start from your head and use it lightly, but make sure to get as much covered as you can." She frowned as she looked him over, shaking her head. "You've got a _lot_ of fur," she murmured, her brow creasing in concern. "You'll probably run out before you're good and covered. Still, this is significantly preferable to a suicide run."

Bowdaar grumbled uncertainly as he squeezed a bit of what turned out to be green oil onto one hand. _"I am not sure that I like this idea of yours."_ The air around them was quickly saturated with a pungent floral aroma, painfully strong, and Bowdaar protested even more. "_This is preposterous! My grooming habits are impeccable. I have no need to be bathed in anything of this sort."_

"Of course not, Bowdaar, you smell just fine, I promise, that has nothing to do with it." Vacy smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring fashion. "Trust me."

Bowdaar narrowed his eyes without making a sound.

Vacy's jaw dropped open. "What?!" she cried. "This will work, honest! I promise!" she insisted, and when he finally chuffed and began smearing the drippy, sickly-sweet oil over the fur on his head, she breathed a sigh of relief.

_At least, I hope it will…_

The oil matted Bowdaar's fur a bit, but when he fluffed it out again, it was hard to notice. Vacy nodded her approval. "All right," she murmured. "Here's how it's going to work…"

* * *

Garin Broff had been moving through the ranks quickly, and took great pride in his ability to keep his particular grunts in line. So when he heard some wolf-whistling and looked over and saw a sassy bit of tail headed their way, he knew he had to deal with the situation before it became a problem. "Mind your posts, boys!" he called down, frowning at them just a bit. Not fiercely, mind; there wasn't anything wrong with a bit of fun so long as they didn't shirk.

But then, in the middle of the alleyway, she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes as she looked around her. "Gentlemen!" she called out. "I am the legendary sky pirate Vacy Fiorst, and right now I am angry because someone has been so rude as to steal something that I need. The affront to my property can be repaid, but the lack of respect to my person must be avenged. Bowdaar!"

An enormous wookiee came to stand beside her, and the small woman grinned viciously. "Rage lasts for a moment, but revenge is eternal!" she snarled. "Tear these slugs apart!"

While the sight of an angry wookiee advancing upon them might have caused any of the men to turn and flee if they had been alone, they took comfort in their greater numbers and drew their guns to fire. It wasn't until Bowdaar walked past the limits of the alley's shade and the sun caught his fur that the screams started.

The glare of both Tatooine suns ignited the already-volatile gel, wreathing the wookiee in a halo of luminous green fire. He raised his arms and let out quite a splendid roar, and without a thought, the men let out shrieks and forgot about anything other than escape.

"Stand your ground, men!" shouted Broff, but by that point no one was listening to him. "Stand your ground!" He slowly began backing up as well but couldn't seem to tear his gaze from the vicious, snarling creature that marched toward him, encased in flame that didn't seem to bother it one bit.

Within moments the alley was clear of everyone except for Vacy, Bowdaar, and the man quivering in the shadow of the warehouse that Tookreek had told them about. The spacer pushed Bowdaar into the shade as well and shrugged off her jacket, patting him down carefully to douse the flames as she could already smell the acrid tang of charred fur.

"Very well," she said, turning to Broff and holding out a hand. "Let's have the holocom."

Though he was still trembling a bit, the man shook his head. "I – I – I have no h-holocom," he stammered.

Without the slightest pause, Vacy looked up at her partner. "Bowdaar, tear his arms off," she said blithely.

But before the wookiee could so much as take a breath, suddenly Broff had a device in his hand and was pressing it into Vacy's. "Oh you mean _this_ holocom," he said with a nervous laugh.

Vacy checked the device before pocketing it and sighing contentedly. "See? There, now, that wasn't so hard. And I think such generosity ought to be rewarded." She smiled at the cowering man gently. "You see, usually, someone who stole from me would be punished with a long, lingering death."

His eyes widened. "You… I know who you are… you're the one who slaughtered that twi'lek on Coruscant!"

Vacy blinked and then beamed in delight. "You HAVE heard of me!" she cooed, clapping her hands. "How lovely. I almost feel like I'm meeting an old friend." The smile froze, hardened. "Except for the nasty little fact that you _stole_ from me. Hm. Now what are we going to do about that little detail?" She rubbed a finger over her chin. "Well. I suppose it wouldn't be very nice to flay you, or have Bowdaar here rip you limb from limb, since we're friends and all. So I tell you what." She pulled out Flashy and pressed the tip of the barrel firmly against the man's sweaty forehead. "I'll make your death quick and painless, and I promise I'll tell everyone that you died very bravely. How's that?"

Garin Broff snuffled, and started to cry. He didn't want to die! He certainly hadn't had anything to do with the theft of the holocom! It hadn't even been his idea to steal it anyway, and she had it back now, after all, didn't she?

As the man babbled, Vacy looked over at Bowdaar with a sigh, rolling her eyes. But then she grinned a little, and turned back to Broff. "Now, see, you've put me in quite a pickle. I feel like we understand each other. _You_ know that I can be vicious, but I'm not unreasonable. And _I_ know that you wouldn't ever think of stealing from me again, isn't that right?"

He nodded his head most emphatically.

Vacy lifted her hands with an apologetic smile. "But I can't have it getting around that I just, y'know, let someone get away! People will think I've gone soft. And I can't have that." She shrugged amicably, and lifted Flashy again. "So I'm afraid you do have to die."

Broff lifted his hands in surrender, scrabbling back against the wall of the warehouse. "Wait wait wait!" he pleaded, his grin wide and desperate. "You could – I mean, ah, I could tell everyone that… that I _saw_ it happen – that you killed everyone. Tore them to pieces! And… and that I didn't have anything to do with it, but that you almost killed me too! That… ah… w-would that work?" he squeaked.

Vacy peered at him thoughtfully, watching the sweat bead on his forehead. "The thing is, folks _know_ you. I mean, you'd have to head off-planet –"

"I can do that!" he interjected, nodding again.

She bit back a grin and continued, keeping her voice firm. "- and you'd have to start over, completely. No ties to your old life."

Broff nodded once more. "I swear it!" he whimpered.

After gazing at him sternly for a few moments, Vacy nodded and holstered Flashy again. Broff immediately sagged against the wall, sighing in relief. "There's a bunch of Republic troops around. I bet if you talk to somebody in uniform, they can point you to the enlistment office. You'll get to see the galaxy, and who knows? Might even get a chance to make yourself a hero." She nodded down the alleyway. "G'wan, now."

He didn't wait to be told twice, but hustled down the sand-strewn path without another word.

Vacy looked up and saw that Bowdaar was shaking his head. "_Would you really have killed him?"_ the wookiee barked.

She looked down again, her smile fading. "Maybe," she said quietly. "I'm not too keen on killing folks, especially those that aren't actually trying to kill me. But…" She took a breath, pushing away the fears that always hovered at the edges of her consciousness, and smiled again, reaching up to clap Bowdaar on the arm. "Anyway, it don't matter. It worked, and I am deeply in your debt. That stuff is right foul."

Bowdaar chuffed a laugh. _"Indeed, this odor is most offensive."_

Chuckling as well, Vacy nodded. "Well, you've earned yourself a shower – and not that sonic crap. I don't care if we are on Tatooine, you deserve it. C'mon, let's catch up with Rish and Corso and head back to the ship."


End file.
